


Honey, I'm not much of a dancer. (but for you I'll try)

by poquimo



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Espionage, Eventual Romance, F/M, Past Relationship(s), Period-Typical Sexism, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-13 05:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3369602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poquimo/pseuds/poquimo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story told in parts that starts and ends as always, with a dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh What It Seemed to Be

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this story is me telling how Peggy x Jack would happen in my mind, if it happened. So far I've only planned maybe five parts, each part its own short story. The first part is the shortest here. I did not feel it would be IC to make Jack suddenly be more open minded, so do expect to see him shove his foot right in his mouth often in the beginning and being rather pushy. Part of the fun of this has honestly been writing him changing.
> 
> THIS FIC no longer takes place after s1 after the events of episode 7 things kinda-- blew up so to speak. So I am editting things wording wise to suggest at least part 1 and 2 taking place during season 1.

It had been a long time coming, so when Peggy was at last welcomed at the get together the agents had after work she found it difficult to pass up the offer when given. Mostly the agents spent the time drinking and complaining about wives and paperwork and other topics that, though unintentionally, excluded her. At least she liked to think it was unintentional.

 

She sat apart from them at the end of the bar, dipping her finger into her bourbon and tracing it around the lip of the glass. If anything, at least the music was nice and it drew her thoughts away from the present to another time; another bar.

"Dance with me, Carter."

The proposition was so abrupt and so unexpected whatever reply Peggy’s mind could have conjured short circuited somewhere between her throat and her lips, which parted as if waiting patiently for her to collect herself. Jack waited too.

"No… no." she managed, "I’m quite awful really."

She turned her eyes down to her nearly empty bourbon, suddenly desperate for another. She tried to catch the bartender’s attention as if that were the end of the matter, but Jack was undismayed.

"I don’t think I can believe that." Agent Thompson leaned his hand into the bar, cutting off any eye contact Peggy could have made to the bartender to rescue her. She straightened on her stool and met his gaze directly. He smiled half so smugly you’d think she had already agreed. 

Arrogance suited him in a way that few men could boast. It was the same self-assurance that she suspected made women enjoy the company of men like Stark. However, it lacked that— indifference. For once it seemed he was looking at her like he was.. taking the time to _see_ her. 

His eyes make a quick trip up and down the length of her. 

_Too much time, then_. Damn him.

 

"You probably just haven’t had the right partner."

Peggy’s heart seized and her knuckles turned white around her glass. She smiled stiffly, but said nothing. It was not until Jack pushed away from the bar and offered her his hand that she cleared her throat to speak.

"The song is too slow." 

_And your voice is too quiet,_ her mind snapped sharply. In truth she felt suddenly hoarse.

"Good. It will keep you from scuffing my shoes if you are as bad as you say."

 _Brazen, pigheaded, can’t-take-a-hint…_ Peggy was barely through her silent assessment of his various flaws before he had taken her hand and had half drawn her already from her seat. She barely had time to set her drink down.

It seemed childish to stop him now, especially when the other patrons politely cleared the way. A few couples seemed to think they had the right idea and joined them in the middle of the floor. He put her hand on his shoulder, which she moved to his upper arm. He put his own hand on her hip, which she moved to lower ribs.

At this point, he was silently laughing at her. His eyes sparkled with it. Peggy narrowed her own.

"Relax, Carter." he said, "I’ll behave myself."

The song was slow and the steps simple. Despite his assurance, she was as stiff as a board and had no notion of “relaxing” anytime soon.

 

"Forgive me if I think you not in earnest, Agent Thompson. I am not accustomed to the idea of two people who dislike one another dancing." she considered for a moment, "Not unless it ends with you unconscious in a cupboard somewhere at least."

"Woof." was Jack’s only response as he shook his head, chuckling to himself. He smelled faintly of whiskey and smoke. It was not _entirely_ unpleasant.

"I like you just fine, Carter. Don’t know how you got the impression I didn’t." he said, and to Peggy’s annoyance, sounded genuinely confused. Did his attitude truly escape him so completely?

"I seem to recall a time not so long ago when you pointed a gun in my direction."

"That’s the job, Marge. It wasn’t personal."

"Or further back, when you seldom spoke to me unless it was to fetch you a sandwich or coffee."

Jack was sharing in her discomfort now, which served him right in her eyes. They danced in silence. Peggy noted she had subconsciously began squeezing his arm, her body rigid and ready to toss him across her shoulder at a moments notice. It was a reaction he often inspired in her.

"… you confuse them. I mean— what you do." Jack said carefully.

"What? Being a woman? Being an agent?"

"Both." Jack said, and then seemed to reconsider. The center of his brow was furrowed as he looked at her. She tried to look anywhere else but at him, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"No. Wait. Look, it’s… it’s the idea a woman _wants_ to be an agent. To be in a man’s place”

"I don’t want to be a _man_ , I want to be a woman who is an agent. How is that so hard to understand?”

"But that’s the problem, Peg- Carter." 

She couldn’t help but laugh, a humorless sound.

"It isn’t _my_ problem.”

It was then she tried to pull away. The song was still going, but she had certainly had enough of dancing. Jack’s hand slid down her waist as she moved back, but he did not let go.

"You’re right."

She stopped. He scoffed, but still managed to smile. It was that same smile he wore often when trying to speak “sense” into her back when she was struggling to find a place at all in this field.

"Don’t look so surprised, I told you before. It’s a shame, but it is true. None of them are going to see you as more than a woman…. and yeah, the fault is with us. Being an agent to us, it isn’t what women do. They are _nurses_ and- and secretaries and waitresses. They like that and it suits them and you don’t fit that.”

Peggy didn’t respond, leaving him to search her face with quick glances to find any sort of reply there. Her throat felt tight and this time she did not stop her hand from gripping his roughly. He winced.

"I don’t fit." she repeated, her eyes sharp.

"That isn’t what I meant."

"It is what you _said_.”

Jack sighed and Peggy felt a sneer build behind her teeth, waiting for his inevitable patronizing.

"You _do_ fit. That’s the thing. An agent is a man’s job in their minds— hell, sure in my mind too. But you fit.” he moved his hand back up to her side, “It suits you.”

Peggy noted they were gathering quite a bit of attention, standing tensely in the middle of the dance floor while the song kept playing. Peggy moved into step again and for a moment Jack seemed to have lost his ability to not trip over his own feet.

"Careful." he warned, but she ignored him and pushed forward.

"And are you the only one who thinks this?"

Jack was looking down at their feet now, not at her as he spoke, “No. Well— probably not. Sousa does. You don’t exactly come up in conversation that much, Carter. Sorry to disappoint.”

"If you think this way then why not lead by example? Why not confront it, rather than make excuses and—"

Jack laughed, “I’d love to lead, Carter. But you seem to have got that covered.”

It was then Peggy realized the reason the other couples were staring and for Jack’s sudden lack of grace. In her fervor, she had started leading the dance.

"Oh. Excuse me." Peggy mumbled, stopping and trying to work back into step.  
He smiled so wide she was starting to think he had forgotten they were arguing a mere moment earlier.

"No need to apologize. I liked it."  
That earned Jack a quirked brow. His smile fell as if he wished to pull the words back in.

"I mean— I _meant_ when you snap your cap like that. Your face gets all red and..” he trailed off, realizing this was definitely not helping his situation.

"I do believe you are the one blushing, Agent." Peggy said, trying not to laugh… a little at least.

"Yeah well, don’t go spreading it around. I have a reputation to uphold."

Peggy’s face fell and with it her grip relaxed. He smiled as if it was a sign of progress, his arm curling in and pulling her closer. He was warm and some part of her wanted to let it go, but she just.. she just _couldn’t_.

"Yes… reputation. The All-American "by-the-book" Agent, reputation." Jack’s smile faded as she continued, "And am I right in supposing it is that same reputation that keeps you silent about your feelings regarding me? That I belong here? That I _fit_?”

That furrow came back into Jack’s brow and for once, he had nothing to say. The song began to taper out and the music picked up to a faster up-beat rhythm. This time when she pulled back, he let her go.

"Well. I suppose it would be _foolish_ to expect anyone to risk that.”

"Carter—"

"Please. You’ve said quite enough. I am… glad you think well of me. It is something at least. Like you said, I am not in a position to hope for more." her voice was nearing sarcasm, but also sitting perfectly in the realm of disappointment.

Jack frowned deeply and Peggy knew if she let him, he’d argue further on what he “meant” versus what actually fell out of his mouth. There was no point in it. Even if Jack did speak out for her the way Sousa had in the past, more than likely he’d be as easily dismissed. Worse yet, they may decide his regard had been bought with indiscretion. Peggy had to face it, there were a million and one reasons for Jack to never once breathe word that he thought her capable.

Did she even truly _want_ him to? Minds did not change when berated and beaten down; if they were, she’d have already done it. No… no as always, this was something she had to earn on her own.

Peggy tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and turned to look at a clock on the far wall. She did not even register the number on its face before excuses came to her mind.

"Well, it is late and I have few favors left at my current residence after the last debacle." she said over the music, "Good night, Agent Thompson."

She smiled, a cold and courteous thing. The corner of Jack’s mouth barely twitched in response.

"Right. Bright and early tomorrow."

Peggy gave a faint nod and set her eyes on the door to the far side of the bar. She was halfway there when he called out after her,

"And Carter, you take it black right?"

Peggy’s step hesitated for half a beat. She turned back enough to look at him.

"With cream, actually."

He made a disapproving face, but nodded and turned back to the other agents.

” _G’night_ , Carter.” he said loudly with an air of expectation. A chorus of “good nights” quickly followed from the agents at the table along with quite a few “don’t let the bed bugs bite” and one “I’d be ready to sleep too after a dance with this guy!”. That last outburst brought on another chorus, this time of laughter.

 

Half a block later, Peggy could not quite figure out why it made her smile.


	2. When You Wish Upon a Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the success of the mission to Belarus, Peggy and Jack are called upon again to investigate a similar school that is being set up in Ukraine.
> 
> It doesn't actually go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a smaller more character buildy one. I am still trying to get a feel for the pacing I want to go at without making this fic huge.

A short trip through the lobby up an elevator and passed the operator board leads to the office of the SSR. On this particular morning, everyone was running a bit sluggish. The crisp steady click of Peggy's heels on the floor seemed to send strikes of pain through a number of heads, still sobering from a night spent on the town as it were.  
She was suddenly very happy she went home when she did... or perhaps rather that she had been blessed with a stronger tolerance.

She set her coat down over her chair, slipping a small compact out of her pocket and placing it in a drawer. From the drawer she then produced a file dedicated on the SSR's most recent pursuit... missing persons in relation to Leviathan. It was their belief the abductions were the work of Leviathan "schools", but so far there was nothing to make the charges stick-- which meant no justifiable reason to do more than pass it onto Carter and have her babysit the case until more came up.

They did not need to fear though, as Peggy was dead set on making certain it did.

She picked up a stack of papers in desperate need of filing before she got too carried away. Dooley didn't notice much, but he did seem dreadfully set upon noticing when she did not "catalog" the other agent's cases promptly. Peggy was half up and moving when she managed to nearly make Jack wear the coffees he was caring as he stepped out in front of her.

" _Easy_ , Carter!" he said, voice sharp.

"Well, perhaps you should wear a _bell_ , Thompson." 

Barely 10am and already she could feel a wave of tension rolling across her shoulders. Wonderful.

To her surprise, he laughed.

"A bell, huh? Sure. Put a collar on me and call me Fido. I do fetch."

He offered her one of the mugs. 

Peggy stared at it.

"Coffee. Black-- like you like it, right?"

No, she liked it with cream, but the words did not come out of her mouth. Instead she took the mug and smiled bewildered.

"Um.. thank you."

"You're welcome. Anything else?" he said, his voice sounding annoyed but his face telling a different story.

Peggy felt her stomach sink, and not in the usual way it did whenever she had to deal with him... which in turn made her stomach sink in the usual dreaded way. She shook her head quickly.

"Good. Chief wants us in his office in ten. Drink it fast."

With that, Jack walked over to sit perched on Sousa's desk. Peggy sat down again and rubbed her thumb over the rim of the mug. After a moment, she risked a sip. It was warm and the heat of it settled in her stomach and spread right down her legs... but dear lord, was it dreadfully bitter and far far too strong. 

 

\----

Just as Jack had said, cataloging was interrupted for the day by a on the fly meeting. Truly devastating. Peggy could hardly contain her disappointment.

"You ready?" Jack came by her desk, waiting with his hand poised on the Chief's door.

"Coming." she mumbled, gathering up her file and leaving behind the coffee. Jack furrowed his brow,

"You going to finish that?"

"What? Oh-- no. Feeling a bit jittery as it is..."

Agent Thompson took a few full steps over, picked up the mug and brought it to his lips. Peggy felt her words die down as she simply scoffed, "Very well, help yourself."

" _Cream._ " Jack said as if he were swearing. He clucked his tongue and shrugged, drinking the last of the mugs contents.

"Next time." he muttered and looked at her pointedly. When she did not move he threw out an arm, "I thought you said you are ready? While we are _young_ , Carter."

Peggy gave him a glare that would have sent half a platoon running in the time of war, but Jack only gave a half smile and held the door for her into the Chief's office.

Dooley did not stand on the ceremony of standing when a woman entered the room and remained planted at his desk. He held a piece of paper in his hand like it were a dead leaf, and threw it down with as much disdain.

"Shut the door, Jack. Have a seat."

There was only one chair in the room, Jack offered it with a gesture to Peggy. She took it as he shut the door.

"I never thought I'd say this, but your grasping at straws paid off Carter. In exchange for some non-disclosed gifts of grain and the like, the locals flipped in the Ukraine."

"They know where the children were taken." Peggy affirmed, nodding her head. This is what she had expected. 12 children do not get spirited off into the night in one village without someone, relative or not, taking notice.

"No. There are suspicions. Speculations at _best_."

Jack scoffed, "Then why are we here, Chief?"

"You are here, because someone who gets paid more than me wants you to be. After the stint in Belarus, the higher ups want you two to go in with another small team and dig up a location. Find it. Report back and we send in the big guns to shut it down."

"Sir, with all due respect," Jack began, "The last mission was only a success do to the cooperation of the Howling Commandos--"

Peggy shot him a look.

"-- and of course the "tactical expertise" of our Marge, here." he added, holding her gaze until both broke away. Peggy could feel a vein in her head pounding.

"I am painfully aware of this fact, Thompson. However, you proved yourself last time. We think with a couple of other SSR agents--"

Peggy opened her mouth to begin suggesting agents she thought suitable for the task, but Dooley immediately rose his hand to silence her,

"-- already _hand picked_ by myself, you should be able to handle a couple shake downs. Get the locals talking. We gave them food, now they owe us."

Jack nodded silently, but Peggy as always had the look like she had something to say. Dooley sighed,

"Carter? Something you want to add?"

"Sir, we all know what Leviathan is capable of. We get these people to talk and we find the children, maybe we even find a base of operations."

"That is the idea, Carter." Jack mumbled, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"Yes, but what happens after? What is to keep Leviathan from rolling in and killing those people for speaking to us?"

Dooley sighed and rubbed his hand over his eyes. He shook his head, muttering something like "I don't believe it" under his breath. He seemed to assume just because Peggy pushed for something meant she would take it at face value.

"Carter, you were on the front line. You know that there is always collateral damage. I am good with that. What I am not good with is the idea these Russian bastards setting up shop somewhere to breed a whole new group of mass murdering girl scouts."

"Here, here." Jack added. He was full up on his glares already so she did not bother to give him another. Peggy did not look comforted in the least.

"Carter, if everything goes to plan then at the end of all this cloak and dagger there won't be a Leviathan left to hurt anyone. Now. Pack your bags, kids. You leave tomorrow. Meet up with the agents near the border of Poland, like last time but more Southish."

"You got it, Chief." Jack opened the door and waited for Peggy. She stood, but instead of leaving she stepped closer to the Chief's desk.

"And just who will we be meeting?"

"Group of the best. Team leader is a--" Dooley flipped open a folder with a pencil, reading a name off a chart, "Gilmore Hodges."

Peggy frowned, she hadn't expected to hear _that_ name again.

\----

"Gilmore Hodges." Jack said, trying the name out on his tongue. "Gilmore Hodges. You seemed a bit spooked in there when he mentioned him, Carter."  
She could not see him from the line of lockers in the men's changing room blocking them, but she could imagine the self-satisfied look at noticing her get stirred up at something. He had practiced some unheard of self-control to wait until the next morning to finally bring it up.

"I knew him during the war." she did not elaborate and instead focused on sliding out of her dress.

"Knew?"

She did not reply.

"As in... what? Overling? Underling? Boyfriend?"

Jack swore he could have counted the beats it took for her to scoff and start talking.

"Hardly. He was a candidate for-- for Project Rebirth."

"Remind me?" Jack pressed, pulling his hand freed from his shirt after realizing he forgot to unbutton the wrist.

"The project that turned Steve Rogers into Captain America." Peggy said, voice becoming crisp and clipped. Jack knew that tone all too well, though Peggy would never believe  
it.

"Ah. Didn't make the cut, I take it. Though if you ask me, seems odd to pick Rogers of the lot. I saw pictures of him before whatever the hell it is they did to them. That kid was barely _there_."

Peggy felt her heart seize again, like it did that night at the bar. She slid out of her slip, standing in her undergarments and trying to remember how to unzip a tactical suit. Her hands fumbled and she swore under her breath.

"Carter?" Jack's voice muffled for a moment as he pulled a shirt on over his head, "Why Rogers, exactly?"

"You'll only laugh." she sneered, finally working free the leg of her suit that was inside out and pulling it on.

"I won't."

Fastening buckles and pulling her boots on tight, Peggy contemplated the idea. She sat for a moment and leaned her arms against her thighs, bowing her head. She sighed, and began to pull her hair up.

"Carter."

Jack's voice was too close, it made her start as she turned her head and saw him leaning against the wall watching her. She let her hair fall back down as she quickly zipped up the front of her suit.

"He had a good heart." she finally offered, working on tying her hair into a tight bun, "The best. It wouldn't have worked if he was any other way. Simple as that."

Jack didn't laugh. In fact Jack didn't say anything. She finished with her hair and stood, turning towards him.

He had a look like he was in pain with his brow furrowed and tight. After a long moment he said, "You must have really loved him."

Peggy's jaw was visibly working, clenching and unclenching against her teeth. Was he making fun of her? Was he trying to find some ammunition against her? She did not know his angle and quite frankly, she did not care. Peggy opened her mouth to tell him exactly this, but his scoff at her expression cut her off and he pushed away from the wall.

"Relax, Carter." he said quietly, picking up his bag as he left the locker room.

 

\-----

The second drop was always easier, Peggy noted as she pushed aside her parachute and worked with the others to hide them beneath snow and branches. Jack had been jittery like before, but the moment they touched ground he was back to his usual infuriating self.

The other half of the team had yet to arrive. Some of the men wanted to start up fires as they waited hunched in the cold tundra. Peggy could only shake her head, confounded with their stupidity. She produced a flask of strong rye whiskey and handed it first to Jack.

“Here. Everyone take a drink of this and if I so much as see a spark, you will have me to answer to. Understand?” her voice was hushed, but held enough authority. The other three agents grumbled and no one seemed eager to take her offer until Jack unscrewed the cap,

“More for me then.” he made a show of drinking deeply, though not a drop passed his lips. The men were quick to accept the drink then.  
From somewhere out in the dark, Peggy heard the faint whisper, “Excuse me.”

Listening closer she heard again, “ _Excuse me._. Could I borrow a match?”

Code phrase. Peggy was ready to speak the other half, but Jack beat her to the punch.

“Sorry boys, I only use a lighter.”

From the trees came a group of six or so men. The one in the front greeted Jack halfway with a grin and a rough handshake.

“Hodges. How the hell you been?”

“Could be better. Could be at home in bed with a girl.”

As Peggy followed after, she gave Gilmore Hodges a slight nod. It was all the regard she planned to give period, given the last time they had a single conversation it ended with him flat on his back for his cheek.

“Well, I'm closer to the dream than I thought.” Hodges grinned and Peggy felt much colder.

“You know Agent Carter.” Jack said stiffly, the sudden good humor from before all but vanished. Hodges shrugged.

“Enough pleasantries. How far from the village?” Peggy demanded, trying and failing to not give Jack a look that suggested they would discuss his unforthcoming behavior from that morning. He had acted as if he never heard the name Gilmore Hodges, but from the look of it they seemed quite familiar.

“Bossy as always.” Hodges snorted and directed his attention to Jack.

“We aren't to interact with anyone directly. Only you and uh-- I guess anyone else you trust for the job. They gave us some civvie clothes that blend in with the locals. Go out there wearing tact suits and--”

“And some soldier comes along with an itchy trigger finger and we're all dead. We know.” Peggy said, voice clipped. Jack shot her a wary look, but Hodges just smiled and continued as if she was not even there.

“Who do you want to take, Jack? I would recommend you and one of my boys in case things get hairy.”

Jack snorted, “You think I can't handle myself?”

“Well I don't know. Last I saw you, you'd checked out of Europe and were getting shipped out to a cushy job with the orient.”

“Aww, jealous Hodges? You should have transferred out when you got the chance. Nothing beats geisha girls. _Nothing_.”

Hodges hissed out a swear and gave Jack a rough slap on the shoulder, laughing now together.

“Damn, Jack. Nothing changes!”

Peggy could feel a sigh threatening to pour out from her chest.

Jack grinned as he spoke, “Yeah... well. I'm going to have to go with Carter.”

Hodges was not expecting that.

“She knows the language.” Jack offered, “And she can take care of herself in a fire fight.”

Hodges made a unconvinced sound, turning his head downward as if too hide his words from Peggy... but being obviously loud enough so she _would_ hear.

“Okay, maybe she can talk the talk. But a girl in a fire fight? What am I suppose to tell the chief if you get pinched and then get very dead on her watch? You are gonna have to  
walk half a mile at least in the dark in the woods. She's gonna get scared. She'll give you away before you get close.”

Jack smiled and let out a breathless laugh. Peggy had heard quite enough. She turned towards the other three SSR agents that had come with them and spotted the one who had her flask. She made her way over quickly and retrieved it.

“Hodges.” Jack began, voice low, “Maybe you forgot, but I recall Carter was right alongside the Captain fighting against HYDRA monsters with weapons beyond anything we've ever see before... all while we were out digging trenches in mud. If anyone would be scared going up against this Leviathan stuff? It is going to be us.”

Hodges grumbled, ready to protest again. Jack did not give him the chance.

“Now, Carter and I were put on point in this assignment. Not just me. The whole reason we are here is because how we handled the last mission. She goes, Hodges. She goes or no one goes. It's not my call.”

Hodges jaw worked for a second before he shrugged, “Okay. But you guys step in it, you high tail it back to this location.”

“Right.” Jack gave Hodges a slap to the arm mirroring the one before, “Sit tight. No fires, though.”

“Yeah I got it.”

 

\--

Peggy had made a makeshift seat out of her pack on a snowdrift. The weather was a bit warmer than usual, though not by much, but it was enough to solidify the snow into something packed and solid. She drew a line in the white with the toe of her boot and took a sip from her flask. When Jack came back over from his little talk with Hodges with an extra pack, she barely acknowledged him.

“You ready to go?” Jack said, talking the way someone might try to talk to an animal they were coaxing from a corner. She took another short drink and looked up at him,

“I don't know. Am I being permitted?”

“You know as well as I do, no one “permits” you to do anything.”

Peggy laughed mirthlessly. He was right about that.

“You just kinda do it.”

Also right.

“I talked to Hodges. He'll butt out.”

“Speaking of which...” Peggy stood up, brushing snow from her pants and picking up her pack and gun, “Did you suffer from some short-term memory loss back at home? Or did you have some other reason for not mentioning your familiarity with Gilmore Hodges?”

Jack rose his hands up in mock surrender. Tossing the extra bag onto the ground. She could see fur lined clothes and other cold weather cloaks nearly bursting out of it.

“Later, Carter. We need to get changed and get going.”

Peggy gave him a choice look before putting her things back down _again_ and rifling through the pack of civilian clothes for a matching set. Once she had them she looked at Jack expectantly.

“I'm going off in that clearing. You stand guard there. If I don't come back in ten, assume I've died of hypothermia or over-exposure to male posturing.”

Jack smiled, “Me stand guard? And who will keep guard of me?”

Peggy could not stop her own lips from returning the smile, “Your innate desire of self-preservation.”

 

\--

 

The walk through the woods was a long one. The first few rays of sun were coming up over the horizon by the time they reached the small valley where the village was situated. Thankfully though, the furs were warm and comfortable. Neither Agent could be persuaded to part with their sturdy boots in favor of the makeshift workings offered to them, so they just were careful not to show too much ankle. Something Jack muttered that she should be use to. Peggy had not been impressed.  
The villagers were not fooled in the least of course. They knew strangers when they saw them. By the time they reached the village proper, there was a small entourage waiting for them.

A woman stepped forward from the group and shot them wary looks.

“ _My name is Margaret. We're here about your children._ ” Peggy said in Russian. The woman's eyes settled on her now that she spoke. Jack shifted uneasy behind her from foot to foot.

The woman nodded and beckoned the others to leave.  
“ _Follow me._ ”

They did.

 

She led them to a small cabin fit for maybe two or three occupants, but seemingly housing no less than six. The woman shooed the young men out into the snow, but the women remained. Based on first appearances, they were not all related.

“I'll wait outside.” Jack said at the door, “Holler if you need me.”

Once he was gone the remaining women seemed more at ease. They gave Peggy a seat by the fire and a mug full of something warm and smelling strongly of fish.

“You are the ones who gave us the grain?” the woman began, still in Russian. 

“Yes.”

“Unnecessary. We are not so starved, but thank you.”

Peggy nodded and politely tried the soup. It was definitely made of a fish, but what fish? She could not detect as it was sparse. The soup contained mostly potatoes.

“We wanted to show you that we are friends. That we care about this village and what is happening to it.”

The woman smiled, her face more wrinkled than Peggy originally thought. She pulled back her hood to reveal a bun of fine blond hair.  
“No one cares so much of orphans in this village. They go hungry or they go to another village. Missing children is nothing new.”

Peggy paused for a moment, looking down at her hands before speaking firmly,

“But that is not what is happening here.”

The woman frowned, “No.”

 

\--  
Half an hour or so later, Peggy exited the cabin. She offered Jack a mug of the same soup she had been given which he gladly took.  
“So?”

“Well, we were right about some things. A few of the girls taken were orphans, but some of them have mothers right in here. They were offered money and when they refused that they were threatened.”

Peggy's voice trailed off. She found it appalling. All of this was beyond disgust. She remembered the girl from Belarus and how despite her vicious nature... she had been so _young_. These people took little girls, but they did more than that. They took their wills and their lives and made them into something that resembled a gun more than a human being. Peggy swallowed hard, her discomfort not lost to Jack.

“Where?” he asked, keeping it simple.

“There is an old military fort near here. It was abandoned after the war due to outbreak of sickness.”

“Rather convenient.”

Peggy nodded and rifled through the folds of her coat for her map. The women inside had marked it with a rough idea where the fort was standing.

“We'll get this to Hodges. He and his men will scout it out with us and once we have a certain location we'll report back.”

Peggy only hummed in response. Jack's brows knitted together instantly,

“Carter. I know what you are thinking and _don't_.”

“By the time they get a full force up here it might be too late! Our presence is not going to go unnoticed for much longer. We have one chance to get these girls out.”

Jack rubbed his hand over his eyes and groaned. Peggy stared him down, barely containing her outrage at-- at all of it. At Leviathan for making such a horrid practice and for her own people's blatant disregard for the lives of these children.

“Have you stopped to consider that maybe these kids are like the one we saw in Belarus? That they'll try to _kill_ us rather than be taken prisoner?”

“Prisoner?” Peggy repeated, eyes flashing, “... oh you're not saying a lot more than I thought, Thompson.”

He could have made up something. Could have gone again on what he said vs. what he meant ... he did seem to be favoring that particular excuse lately. Instead, Jack pulled her away from the door to the cabin to a spot between two houses and pressed in close. She could feel the steam of his breath as he spoke lowly,

“What did you _think_ was going to happen, Carter? Really? You forgetting that kid from Belarus? She nearly killed you. She nearly killed _all_ of us. Those girls could be just like her by now.”

Peggy jerked her arm free of his grip. He let go without a fight.

“Are you really ready to take that chance? To assume guilt? You of all people--”

Jack's eyes darkened, his jaw clenching tight.

“Don't go there, Carter. Not to prove a point.”

“ _It needs to be proven._ ”

He looked away from her, staring at some fixed point on the snow. Just when she thought maybe he'd come around, he moved away from her. Looking up to the line of trees they came from.

“We'll head out by the time the suns down near the tops.”

“For God's sake Jack.” she breathed in disbelief. He'd put his hands on his hips, his head hung low but otherwise seemed to be ignoring her. She felt her own shoulders go rigid, her mouth set just as stubbornly.

“They are children. And I will not underestimate them for that-- but nor will I leave them to suffer such a fate if they can be saved.”

“I didn't hear that.” Jack muttered, shaking his head. “And _do not_ repeat it.”

She had no intention of wasting her breath.

\--

By the time they reached their camp it was just getting dark again. Jack and Hodges were off planning their nightly recon of the fort. Peggy listened carefully, but remained uncharacteristically quiet.

“Now we have no idea what we are walking into--”

Thankfully, Jack seemed to remember her own tactics from the previous mission.

“-- we skirt around. If it looks empty we will check it out. If not, we hold back and keep to the original plan.”

“Wait-- I was told this was scouting only. No entry. There is too big of a risk that it is still in operation and we aren't suppose to do nothing that tips them off.” Hodges voice  
was curt and suspicious now.

Peggy looked up now to find Jack was looking at _her_ as he spoke. She kept her face impassive.

“Yeah well. Plans change sometimes. Just setting up some contingencies.” he said, but at the same time seemed to be silently inquiring something of her.

_Are you going to make trouble for me?_

In truth, not if it jeopardized the lives of the men under their command. But if he knew her at all he would know that, so instead she barely veiled a small grin.

 _Always_.

 

\--

 

Compared to the furs, their tactical gear felt cold. They had split into smaller groups and made their way down the path marked out on Peggy's map. Jack had insisted she keep with him, which was a change of pace from his usual behavior.

It did not surprise her as much as it should have though-- his usual behavior had been changed it felt since the last time they wore these uniforms together.

“To answer your question...” Jack said quietly, coming up from behind her.

“... I know Hodges, because before I was stationed in Okinawa I was in a unit Captain Rogers pulled out from behind the German's line. Hodges' own unit was part of the rescue.”

That sentence alone spoke volumes to one who was aware as Peggy to the situation surrounding that unit. A thousand men locked down for months during the bitterest storm of the year. It was beyond hopeless and most of the men had been thought dead or soon to be. She stopped mid step, giving him a look of disbelief. He merely shrugged.

“You were there?”

“When we all got captured and shipped off to some Nazi work camp in the middle of a blizzard? Yeah.”

Peggy didn't know what to say.

“After Rogers got us out, I took the next chance for reassignment. Hell, I'm surprised more people didn't. Shipped me out to Okinawa within the week.”

“You never mentioned it before.”

“It didn't come up.”

A man ahead of them signaled for all to hold. A few more signals told them to look; fort was to the right. It was hard to miss out here in the vast darkness that glowing lights powered by one very quiet generator. The “fort” looked more like a cylinder block with windows than something actually defensible. Peggy knew this would mean a few things; snipers on the roof, mines under the snow or perhaps some other invention rigged up to blow the entire building if it was infiltrated.

There were too many uncertain variables to go rushing in gun-ho. Peggy could have screamed with frustration, but instead she followed behind Jack as he took point and led them around at a safe distance where they could just barely see the entrance. Hodges met them there.

“My guys don't see a single gun on that roof, but there is a truck parked around the other side. Still running.”

Jack nodded.

“Did you see anyone? A driver? The children?” Peggy pressed, but Hodges shook his head simply.

“Nah. Wait--”

They had spoken too soon. Just then two men carrying guns opened the broad double doors and behind them a woman came ushering on a group of no less than seven girls. Peggy counted again just to be certain. There were suppose to be twelve in all. She did not want to think now what had become of the other five.

“Shit...” Hodges whispered and for once Peggy quite agreed.

The truck from around the building drove into view now, sitting on the road waiting. The girls were silent as they were one by one put into the back of the truck. It was impossible to hear the conversation the woman was having with the guards from this spot. 

“Alright. We need to clear out.” Jack whispered and on cue, Hodges signaled for the men to back off. Peggy felt her heart stutter to life as she watched the last child disappear behind the truck's canvas flap.

“I can get closer.” was all Peggy said, before she ducked out behind Jack and broke off into a sprint around. Jack reached out to stop her, but she was already gone. She was too far away to hear the curses he snarled after her and far too worried about keeping low and quiet. The road split down a small incline, giving her cover as she crossed over it and to the other side. So far so good, and not one mine in sight. Though, she wagered, that was generally the point of mines.

Getting to a cluster of brush near the forest line, Peggy could now more clearly make out the voices speaking in broken Russian.  
“ _Useless._ ” she caught, followed by “ _Close it up. We'll start somewhere--_ ”  
The engine of the truck suddenly became louder, blocking out the rest. When it died back down she could hear again.  
“ _What do we do with them?_ ”  
“ _Take them into the woods. Leave them. I've told them it is a survival exam. Then come back here and we go._ ”

Peggy felt her throat go dry. She was right. These were no trained killers, not yet and seemingly never to be. The woman in charge's words seemed to suggest a greater problem perhaps within the Leviathan “schools”, but Peggy hardly cared about that now. The woman went back inside the fort and the two men got into the truck. They began to pull out and turn to go down the road.

Now, if she could get ahold of the side of the truck and into the back maybe the girls would keep quiet long enough for her too--

Her thoughts were broken off by something roughly shoving her onto the snow, pinning her down with it's body weight. She was no stranger to opponents who used their greater mass to out-do her, so whomever it was had to fight to try and keep her from trying to silently struggle onto her back to face them. When she did at last catch a glimpse of a head, she struck her fist out and hit true to the side of their face.

“ _Carter._ ” Jack hissed, blood flecking the snow as he let up from her arms, but continued to straddle her waist. His legs were clamped down hard on either side of her own, keeping her movement limited. She rose her fist back to hit him again and he braced his arms in front of himself for defense.

The truck was coming closer. She'd miss her chance!

“What the _fuck_ are you doing--”

“They are going to kill them!” she said, hoarsely. Unable to scream as she wanted to with the need for stealth. His arms lowered and he stared at her, saw the panic in her eyes as she roughly tried to dislodge him from her again. 

“God _dammit_.” 

The weight of him was off of her then and his hands were pulling her to her feet. She did not even stop to make sure he was okay before she broke off into a run after the truck. She caught the side of it right before the vehicle was speeding up from the velocity of going downhill. It was a good catch, her step barely making a sound on the bumper as she stepped up and gripped the side for support.

Jack was not so graceful. Peggy had to reach out to steady him and keep his gun from clacking against the side of the truck. An idiot would have noted the extra weight, but thankfully it seemed the two men in charge of transport were not as guile as one would think.

There was blood on Jack's face and in his blond hair, but he seemed to be smiling in the dark. There was no humor in it, but rather defeat.

“If I freeze to death or get shot, you get to explain it to my mother.” he whispered, wiping the blood from his face.

“I think you broke my nose.”

For some reason, that made her smile.

 

\--

 

The truck drove on for a good twenty minutes. Peggy could barely feel her fingers anymore and her legs screamed for release. Jack looked no better as he attempted in vain to adjust his grip here or there to give himself relieve. Every once and awhile he exchange a silent look with her that seemed to say this was all her fault and it better be worth it.

Peggy's face as usual, said nothing back.

The truck turned off the road to an off-beaten path marked only by tire marks in the snow. It went like this for a short distance before finally coming to a stop. Peggy gave Jack a signal; get down and go around. Take one. I'll take the other.

Before he could protest, she ducked into the canvas flap of the truck and into the bed where seven little girls lay sleeping.  
None of them stirred when she entered. They lay huddled together beneath blankets far too thin and sparse to keep out the cold. Peggy felt her heart constrict at the sight, but also a rush of warmth spread through her chest to her limbs. _Anger_.

The two men were coming around having exited the truck. She heard one continue to crunch through the snow to her left, but the other seemed to stutter to a halt. If she listened carefully, she could hear the faint rustle of clothing and the gulping of someone in desperate need of air. The other man came around to the flap of the truck and Peggy was waiting. The toe of her boot connected with his face and this time there was no _doubt_ she broke his nose. She hopped out of the truck, landing on her feet just as the man seemed to regain his sense. He reached to pull his gun around from the holster on his back, but the butt of Peggy's rifle struck him again in the face and then the gut. He fell to his knees on the snow, one last round kick to the temple sending him flat and unmoving. Behind her, Jack tossed the now unconscious second driver to the side.

He smirked at her, “So much for the mission, then?”

Peggy took in a deep breath, then headed back to the truck.

“I'm serious, Carter.”

“If you wanted to claim superiority in the realm of obedience, Agent Thompson then you would have stayed _behind_.”

She pushed open the flap to see the girls inside again. A few had awoken and stared at her with eyes wide with uncertainty and fear. The eldest could have been no more than _six_. Jack kept his distance.

“We need to take them home.”

“Take them home? Carter, that is where they _took_ them in the first place! Did you even think about that? Before you ran off and nearly compromised all of us?!”

“Would it have been better to let them die? To leave them out here to starve and freeze to death?”

“That's not what I meant--”  
“ _What do you mean then?_ For God's sake, Jack, for once say what you mean instead of implying to it.”

He said nothing of course. Snow was beginning to drift down from the sky in heavy wet clusters. It would not be long before the tracks were gone and there would be no hope of following them back to camp. The younger girls had begun to fret and cry. Peggy hushed them gently, speaking to them in what Russian she knew to try and calm them... to let them know they were going home.

“Did we even save them?”

She turned to look at Jack. He had come up at her side, looking in now on the children. His face was never so readable and right now she could see that no part of him wanted to let harm fall on these girls.

“We'll take them home. Call in the troops to clean out this place like planned. Like Dooley said... if there is no Leviathan here, then there is no danger. Right?”  
Jack considered this and gave a faint nod.

“Right.”

 

The truck managed to get them half way there before it sputtered out and died on the path. By now though, Peggy could tell they were nearing the valley edge where the village was set and from there it would be no hard thing to meet back up with Hodges and the others. Thankfully, all the girls had shoes that seemed adequate in keeping out the cold. Peggy hoisted one of the smaller ones onto her hip and held the hand of another. They stayed close. There were no scars from handcuffs on their wrists or signs they were anything but regular, if but slightly malnourished, little girls.

Jack had offered his back to one, who climbed on. She chattered away in Russian, asking him questions about where her mother was that Peggy swiftly answered.

“Now. You see that cluster of stars right there?” Jack spoke, his words lost on the children yet still they listened. “That's the big dipper. You follow that point at the end and it will always take you home.”

“I'm not entirely certain that is a universal truth, Jack... or if you can even see that particular star this time of year on this side of the world.”

“Well don't spoil it all at once, Carter.”

Peggy couldn't help but laugh, smiling broadly as she watched the girl on his shoulders rub her cheek into his back and close her eyes.

“It suits you.”

“What?” he looked over his shoulder and now it was his turn to laugh, “You think? Well, I'd say the same Carter if I didn't think you'd hit me again.”

He nodded to the child sitting on her hip.

Her smile softened and after a moment she found herself admitting, “I don't mind.”

They continued on in silence, looking up at the sky which was clearing from the snow before. The children kept close and when they began to note signs of home, became more and more animated.

Over the sound though, she could have sworn for a moment him say, “Good to know.”

 

\--  
The plan went as one could expect. Hodges was furious Peggy had broken the mission parameters, but there was hardly anything to be done about it now. What children had survived their abduction were now returned to their parents or taken in by others who had lost theirs. The villagers planned to clear out for the next few days as soldiers would be arriving.

When they did arrive, they found nothing but an empty building and shallow graves.

For her part, Peggy simply shrugged in the face of Hodges and Dooley's looks as they stood now in the Chief's office, safe and back at home in America.

“What were you even _thinking_ , Agent?” Dooley fumed, his voice barely containing his anger.  
“I think it went rather well.”

“ _Rather well_ \--” Dooley started, his face blotchy and rising in color.

“They knew we were coming long before we showed up, Chief. Best we could have done was save what we could.” Jack spoke up, his tone almost _bored_ and non-committal. Dooley shot him a look of disbelief.

“Speaking of which.” Jack pulled a stack of tied up cards from his pocket and set them on the Chief's desk.

“They all wanted to write. Say thanks for getting them out of the scary school. You can read them if you want-- might need Carter to translate though.”

Dooley stared at the stack, trying to contain his anger as best as possible now it seemed rather than blow up on his golden boy.

“Fine. Fine. _Carter_ , next time, dig a bit deeper. I don't have time to go after splinter groups masquerading as the enemy.”

He needed to blame her for something, so she took it with a nod.

“Absolutely. Will not happen again, Chief.”

“You hear? Will not happen again. Hold her too it.” Jack added with a nod. His nose was still patched up and a good deal of bruising was apparent around his cheeks. Peggy pondered for a moment hitting him again.

He caught her gaze however and smiled. She turned away quickly.

“Alright. Get out of my sight the both of you. And Jack, we will talk later once you've settled back in.”

“You got it.” he said, holding the door open for Carter and closing it behind him.

She did not look at him as she spoke, “Men's locker room. Five minutes. Do not be late.”  
Her heels clicked loudly on the floor as she left him bewildered behind her.  
–  
Jack seemed rightfully nervous when he met with her five minutes (and a half) later. The door clicked as she locked it behind him.

“Carter?”

She rounded on him then, “What are you doing?”

“Uh-- being dragged to impromptu meetings in inappropriate locals?”

“No. I mean all of it. Starting with the coffee.”

“Is that a crime?”

“You backed my play in Ukraine even though you didn't agree with it.”

Jack was looking everywhere but at her and trying to brush her off. Peggy was not having it.

“You defend me to the Chief, but we had no idea whether they knew we were coming or _not_.”

“Relax, Carter.” he said, dismissing her _again_.

“ _No._ You do not get to play this as me overreacting. As me being the one who is the problem. I have reason to be suspicious and you know it. You have not once in all my time in this office acknowledged me as an Agent. Your respect is beyond my grasp, you have made that quite clear on numerous occasions. You have flat out told me to my face that I should give up this work because of the fact I will not achieve that respect from _any_ man.”

Each accusation she punctuated with one sharp step towards him. Jack didn't move at first, but finally seemed to back off slightly by the fourth step.

“So answer me. What are you trying to do?”

He looked at her then, his eyes seemingly filled with contempt. For her. For her words.

“ _Leading by example._ ” he said, slowly punctuating each word.

Peggy had to take a moment to let that fully sink into her mind. She searched his face for sign of a lie or some other deception and found none.

“You use flippancy to lead by example? The Chief thinks you are taking _pity_ on me, not supporting me.”

Jack scoffed and shook his head. He looked at her with the same expression of exasperation she often gave him,

“Just what do you want me to do, Marge? You don't want people to pity you, you made that clear with Sousa. You don't want anyone to defend you, outright or not... so what is there?”

Peggy turned from him and unlocked the door. She threw it open roughly, but at the last moment, held it open expectantly for him.

He set his chin stubbornly, and walked through. She stopped him halfway.

“Don't stand up for me, unless you mean it. Don't speak on my behalf when I am speaking for myself. Trust that I am capable and strong enough to deal with it. Respect that I don't need you or Sousa or anyone else to make everyone accept me.”

She paused, “I meant it when I said I appreciate that you think I am suited to this job. Now show you do by letting me do it. That is what I meant by leading by example. Treat me the way you would any other _male_ agent.”

Jack sighed, pushing past her arm and into the hall.

“Not sure I know how.”

Peggy was not even sure she did. The struggles she faced were a double edged sword. Jack could not earn her her own respect by defending her. Though his way was less apparent, it was the same as Sousa had tried.

Jack painted quite a picture, standing in the middle of the hall scowling like a school boy with his bruised face. The fact he even _admitted_ in a roundabout way to... to trying. That was worth something. At least it was worth something to her.

“The bourbon was a good start. And the coffee.” she said, drawing his eyes up.

“Yeah. You like it black right?”

“Don't be an arse.”  
Jack looked taken aback for a moment, then he laughed.

“You know, I'm not one for swearing around women. But a woman swearing? That's just--”

“Oh? May I recite for you some delicate words you shared with me whilst on our previous assignment?”

“Okay, I lost my temper. But--”

“Fu--

“Marge-- _don't_. I think I'd faint.” he clutched his shirt front and stumbled back slightly in mock example. She laughed, despite herself. He walked backwards towards the office door as he spoke,

“Cream then?”

Peggy nodded, “Cream. Though honestly tea is preferable.”

“Don't get your hopes up, Carter.”

 

In all truth, they were only getting higher.


	3. I'll Walk Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack walks Peggy home and they get caught in a storm. It's nice until it isn't and old memories are stirred up.  
> This chapter contains Spoilers for Agent Carter ep.7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters like this make me scream, "I am a hack writer" silently in my head. It is much more brief than the previous one and feels like filler to me-- but still lots of Jack and Peggy scenes. I like the idea that underneath it Jack is very-- immature? Not the right word. He gets sheepish and acts like a boy sometimes especially around girls and emotional situations. I take it from how he acted when Angie started crying. In my mind he did not have much female company, no sisters or anything so he has no idea how to react with them sometimes.
> 
> Also teaser for next chapter I like to summarize as, "Jack does something amazing and Peggy starts to go "Okay, I'm kinda attracted to that."
> 
> I was going to hold off until the season finale to see if Peggy DOES become the new Chief of the SSR, but I wanted to get this one posted and done so I can continue on with my main "Leviathan splinter group" plot I have in mind.
> 
> I attempted to write in some Jarvis, but since the focus of this story is suppose to be Jack and Peggy I think I won't try to bring in too many people. Chapter title comes form the 1944 song "I'll Walk Alone" sung by Dinah Shore.

The day had been particularly long and hard. With the fall months closing in, Peggy felt more at home than ever with the constant rain and storms rolling in off the Atlantic. It made the mornings feel drawn out into the late afternoon and plagued the entire office with a bout of drowsiness it could not seem to shake.

Peggy could not help but feel the greyness of the day felt more so by the still lingering feelings of grief over Chief Dooley. She had never met his wife before and even now had only a brief exchange with her as she came to collect her husband's things... among them a blanket and pillow. 

The office stood empty now, waiting for a new occupant. So far, Colonel Phillips had taken over dispensing authority for them at the moment until a replacement was named.  
 _Replacement._ It sounded so insufficient. She may have had no real love for the man, but after what he did... no one could replace him. No one could mirror his courage.

When the day finally drew to a close, Peggy was eager to go home and sit with a cup of tea and decompress. The other agents were gathering their coats and hats, but Daniel lingered behind. He grabbed his brace and proceeded over to her desk, handing off a file that would need attention tomorrow with the barest of nods and a smile.

It had been hard on him; when Peggy had been singled out as a traitor nearly a month ago. The fact she had successfully managed to work behind all of them to bring Stark in the clear while they fumbled in the wrong direction had caused tension among more than just Daniel. Some might think he was angry a woman had gotten the better of him and his fellow agents, but Peggy knew the truth. 

He saw her now as an entirely capable agent... and that meant capable of lying with complete ease. It was the job, she had tried to remind him, but so far it seemed whatever trust she had earned from Daniel was gone for the moment.

"Good night, Carter." Daniel said in passing, heading back to his desk. Peggy was prepared to stop him, but at the same moment Jack had ventured back from where a group of agents waited and passed by Sousa as if he were not even there.

"Some of us are going down to the corner club. Buy you a drink?"

Peggy's eyes lingered past Jack's shoulder to Daniel and for once she found herself saying,

"No, actually. I'm-- quite tired. I think home and a cuppa will suit me fine."

Jack's face gave away disappointment, but he quickly recovered, "It's too dark for someone to be out alone." he considered for a moment, "I'll walk you."

Peggy laughed, "Someone or a woman? How uncharacteristically gallant of you, Thompson. I hardly need an escort.."

"You got it all wrong, Carter." Jack pulled on his jacket and put on his hat, tapping the brim down, "You're escorting me."

"To my apartment?" she said with an air of feigned innocence. He fumbled for words then, but Peggy only had a bare moment to appreciate his embarrassment as she caught Daniel's eyes again. He was looking between the two of them with a deep frown, eyes finally locking with hers with a silent question.

Peggy grabbed her coat, "I can not imagine I could stop you."

“You could if you wanted to.”

Jack was acting per his usual stubbornness, undismayed by her sudden coldness. She briskly walked past him and he followed directly, nodding to Daniel.

"Night, Sousa. Remember to lock up."

Daniel said nothing, but Peggy swore she could feel the heat of his gaze on her back long after they'd left the building.

\---

The pavement was still wet from the showers of the day. Clouds blotted out the stars and the air held a dampness and a chill that was surprisingly pleasant. It was hard for Peggy to relax with the unfamiliar presence of Jack at her side. His usual confident stride was shortened as he fell into step with her.

The silence should have been awkward, but it _wasn't_... which ironically, made Peggy feel awkward. How was it that the very act of feeling at ease or appreciated by this man let directly to her feeling the opposite or _wanting_ the opposite? They hung in a limbo of “nearly” it seemed and “not quite”. But to what? Peggy brushed the thought aside.

The rain had begun to pick up and before long it was coming down in sheets of unrelenting icy water. Peggy had brought her umbrella, but with the wind it made it nearly useless. Half soaking and definitely cold, Jack tugged her up beneath the stoop of a brownstone apartment building and out of the wet.

“Well.” he said with an air of defeat, taking of his hat and shaking the water off, “Bet you're wishing for that drink about now, Marge.”

Peggy rolled her eyes at him, brushing her hands through her hair to try and rescue some of the curl. It was a hopeless endeavor and so she instead worked on trying to get the majority of the water out. Lightning struck somewhere beyond the New York skyline and when the thunder rolled over she could feel it in her chest.

“How'd you get here, Carter?”

The question threw her. She looked at him as if this would bring understanding to his motive, but found him making a study of _her_. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“How did I get where?” she asked.

Jack gestured his arm out to the city streets, “New York. Desk job.”

“We do quite a bit more than just solid desk work, Thompson.”

“Yeah, but you could be out on the front-line if you wanted. The Commandos seemed eager to have you back... just curious what it is that keeps you here?”

Peggy felt a few raindrops fall down unto her shoulder. One drew a cold trail down her neck. She wiped it away idly as she wondered herself. She had told Dugan she wanted to give it a rest-- but what was she taking a rest _from_?

“I suppose... after the war and everything that happened I just wanted a normal sort of life.”

Jack seemed to find this funny, but he did his best not to laugh.

“Normal. I wouldn't call this job _normal_.”

“I-- no. No I wouldn't either. Honestly I shouldn't be surprised. Life has a way of sticking you back where you are suppose to be rather than where you think you ought to.”  
Jack hummed thoughtfully (if such a thing was a possibility) and Peggy found herself wondering why he even thought to ask.

“Is this another exploration into why a “woman” would want to be in a man's job? Or are you just filling silence until the Arc comes to deliver us from the flood?” she asked, her voice uncombative on the subject now. At least _right_ now.

“No. I just figure-- well, you know about me. Thought I'd ask.”  
Peggy laughed with disbelief.

“I wouldn't say that.”

His brow furrowed. She thought of telling him he needed to work on his array of facial expression. That same look he gave her right now seemed identical to the one he gave uncooperative suspects. It made her wonder if she inspired the same feeling of ire in him.

“Okay. Fair's fair. What do you want to know?”

“What should I know?” she threw back, smiling despite how cold and comfortable the rain was making her. It showed no signs of letting up any time soon.

“Well... I was born here in New York. I have two brothers. Parents, both still around and there is Gam-- I mean, my grandmother. Lives upstate.” he sucked air through his teeth and made a show of thinking back, “I guess that is about it.”

“Riveting stuff there.” Peggy laughed. He smiled in a way that made her feel like the only sensible thing to do was smile back. It was a rare thing to see a genuine smile on  
Jack Thompson's face rather than something coy or arrogant-- or both.

“Let's see...” Peggy pressed her lips together. He watched her mouth when he thought she was not looking.  
“Born in London. Obvious. Immigrated when I was twelve. No siblings, but I do have a favorite cousin who may as well been my sister. Extended family all back in England excluding parents. We keep in touch sparingly as they are quite a ways away, in Maine.”

At some point they'd gotten closer. Maybe it was so they could hear one another over the rain and wind, or maybe it was just the bodies natural response to gravitate towards warmth when cold. Either way, Jack was barely a foot from her, arm leaning against the wall and his head inclined towards her. Peggy found herself leaning against the brick, the rough texture scraped the side of her head slightly.

“You on good terms with them?”

Peggy nodded absently, “They were not entirely thrilled by my career choice, but they supported me. When I enlisted I thought my father was going to faint.”  
Jack laughed, shaking his head at the idea.

“Not many women went rushing out to enlist.” he started, “But I got patched up by enough nurses running along side us on the front line to know better than to say they shouldn't have the privilege.”

Peggy hummed, “How liberal of you.”

“Sometimes. I try.”

She had noticed. They fell into a comfortable silence, with Jack watching the rain out of the corner of his eye and Peggy... watching Jack. His shirt was clinging to his chest from where the water had soaked through. She could see the faint outline of his undershirt beneath the material and became suddenly aware of each rise and fall of his breaths. Her own eventually fell in time. 

Peggy could feel her eyes nearly closing as the sound of the rain lulled her into a blissful calm. Jack spoke up abruptly, startling her back awake.

“So, no boyfriend? Fiance or other attachments?”

“Now that's too bold.” Peggy said, her smile tight as she tried to laugh the question off. Jack gave a half shrug.

Peggy felt tension coming back as she added, “Please, if you are going to start inquiring into my love life I swear I will walk home myself even in this weather.”

“Well, I don't. Have any attachments. Not always been that way, but for now.”

Peggy felt whatever reply she had made up in preparation for his inevitable persistence die in the back of her throat. Jack moved away, hands finding his pockets as he leaned his shoulder into the wall. He stood straighter now, further away.

“Then again, I never dated Captain America. I can't imagine after him anyone else quite matching up.” the flippant way he spoke struck a cord in Peggy that made her stand up straighter too, mirroring him.

She said nothing, staring at him with an expression that was not quite angry but definitely not thrilled by the topic.

“You and Sousa though? I thought maybe you two had a thing going before the Stark case. Then again, I thought you and Stark had a thing going before the Stark case.” he seemed to find this amusing.

“Do you ever tire of hearing yourself speak?” Peggy's voice was stiff. Her vowels always so soft and curved came out harsher and faster. She did not wait for a reply, instead looking up at the sky outside of the stoop and clearing her throat.

“I think the rain has let up enough. We should be going.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Carter--”

“ _Me?_ ”

“Look, I was out of line. I'm sorry if I upset you about your ex.”

“He was not my _ex_.” Peggy snapped, “He did not leave me, Thompson. He _died_.”

She expected to see mockery or annoyance in Jack's face at her sudden outburst, but instead he seemed to only look at her with a profound sadness. _Pity_ , her mind corrected and she felt her face suddenly burn red. She'd pity herself too for thinking she was anything more than a maybe. She was an almost that never got beyond one single kiss in the middle of a fire fight that would take him away forever. One goodbye that would fill her with endless thoughts of what could have been and what was never going to be. She must seem such a fool. A woman devoted to the memory of a dead man who was and would never be hers. Without another word she turned and ventured out into the rain.

“I... I am really only a few blocks down. You should get back. No sense in getting wet on my account.” she said in passing, not bothering to stop.

“Carter, _wait_. I'm sorry-- just wait.”

He followed for only a few steps before he stopped and silently kicked up rain water and paced and circled-- uncertain where to go or what to do, but knowing that this was one time he should not follow.  
Her steps only got faster. She welcomed the rain now as it cooled her skin. Her blood was pounding in her ears and she swore if he so much as touched her she would show him just how capable she was of taking care of herself in the dark.  
But he didn't and it made her hate him. 

_It made her want to go back._

\---

Now days, Jarvis and her did not need to sit back to back in the diner to avoid suspicion of their interactions. He sat in front of her, fishing the last bit of ice cream from his bowl after a short lunch. His tie was a particularly vivid shade of plum today and new, Peggy noted. It took a deeply devoted man to be secure enough to wear such a gaudy thing, but Peggy had seen him with his wife. Deeply devoted did not begin to cover it.

She sighed quietly, but nothing escaped him.

“You seem subdued, Ms. Carter. Feeling under the weather?”

“Feeling-- well, feeling.” she surmised, groaning inwardly.

“Eloquently put. Your sherbet is melting.”

The colors had begun to run together too until the yellow and blue tones had become a sort of brown soup.

“And this feeling could be described as?” Jarvis continued tentatively. Peggy wished sorely he would not take such pains to be considerate, but another part of her welcomed it after the several terse interactions she had had so far with Thompson since the events of the previous night. 

He'd still brought her coffee, the bastard. It made her feel awful, but she _shouldn't_ feel awful. Yes, they had delved slightly into the realm of more personal topics, but he had no right to try to pry into her most intimate of relationships. No right at all.

Peggy sighed heavily and Jarvis nodded,

“Fascinating. An apt description.”

She hummed a “yes” but otherwise said nothing, swirling her spoon through the melted brown liquid. 

“Yikes. That looks about as good as chilled porridge, English.” piped Angie cheerfully from her side, gathering up the empty sandwich plates and setting down a fresh glass of water.

“Unless that is some kinda delicacy from over the Pond I don't know about.”

Jarvis made a look of disgust, “Hardly.”

“You all set with it anyhow?” it was just like Angie to be attuned to Peggy's mood. Jarvis too it seemed was impossible to fool. Though she was doing a poor job of hiding it to begin with.

“Yes, please.”

Angie took the bowl away and exchanged a worried glance with Jarvis. As soon as she was gone, he tentatively reached across the table and touched Peggy's wrist.

“The good thing I'm told about having ones own “sidekick” is sharing the burden of service. Perhaps you rather I didn't pry?”

Peggy forced a smile and patted his hand. He let go then.

“Just-- the same old story.”

Jarvis had a terrible poker face. Peggy had learned that when Howard Stark had tried to keep the truth of Steve's blood from her and right now she could practically see the nefarious and violent acts he was imaging upon her co-workers.

“I thought perhaps after the incident with Mr. Stark was cleared...”

“No. No it isn't that. It's just _one_ of them.”

“Ah. The brutish one? Blond and insufferable?”

Peggy smiled genuinely then and Jarvis knew he had his man.

“I thought you were building a rapport?” 

“We are. We were. I--” Peggy held her breath for a moment before letting it go, “I think I may have mucked it up a bit.”

Jarvis looked surprised, “ _You_?”

“Do I detect you in sarcasm, Mr. Jarvis?”

“Not at all! I just find it hard to believe the fault lies with you when he is so particularly... _disagreeable_.”

That was one way of describing a man who had interrogated him and sat idly by while the Chief threatened him with deportation. Peggy chastised herself silently for speaking ill of the dead-- but it was still a call she had not agreed with and even now never would.

“Well, I may be more partial to his and anyone elses brand of “disagreeability” once we have our new Chief it will be like starting from square one.”

Jarvis looked considerably less worried than her, he even smiled and chuckled,

“My dear, after Dooley personally implored you to find these villains, I would be rather surprised if you were not named Chief.”

Peggy did not know what to say to that. Jarvis had always been first in line to point out how none of the men in the agency would give her the respect she deserved. He had been kinder in the phrasing than Thompson, but they had shared the same view regardless. However, now? Now Jarvis seemed to have set aside that thinking completely.  
Angie came by with another small serving of sherbet to replace the one she had let melt. Peggy moved it around the bowl with her spoon, trying to ignore how Jarvis was smiling at her like a fool.

“Hush. You'll jinx it.” she said between a bite.

–--

The tension needed to be alleviated. Thompson seemed at odds with her and barely spoke to her the past day except to say “Good morning, Carter” “Coffee, Carter.” and then “Good night, Carter.”

For a woman who craved far more often the company of her female companions, the sudden absence of Jack hanging about her desk and waiting for her at the end of the day was... bothersome. 

Bothersome. Peggy sighed. For heaven's sake, she _missed_ it. It was bad enough Sousa and the rest of the agents seemed more distant of late. She needed to get out from behind this desk and moving to clear her head. Gathering up some reports (stopping by to snag some of Daniel's even to his surprise) she headed directly to the room they kept the filing cabinets.

She shut the door behind her and tossed the files haphazardly onto a desk. Peggy paced in a straight line for a moment, trying to work out in her mind that she had every right to be angry. He had no right to ask. He'd no right to ask about Steve.

The more she said it though, the more she realized that she was not so much angry that he asked... but that it was mentioned. That she had been out alone with another man having a relatively good time for something as silly as being caught in a storm talking about parents and cousins and.... and then she remembered Steve.  
Every time Thompson was kind to her or showed her respect or tried to be _better_ , she liked it... she liked it very much and that same liking sent a stab of guilt through her gut accompanied by a vivid memory of Steve. 

It was as if her mind had built up this wall there and so every time she thought of Thompson in the vaguest positive light her subconscious was hell bent on reminding her of the man who was suppose to be the love of her life. But why did she need reminding? Her feelings of warmth towards Jack Thompson did not at all rival her feelings for Steve Rogers. It made her wonder if it stemmed from a feeling that she was being too easy on Jack after all he had said and done in the past, but that did not feel right _either_.

She leaned her hands against the desk, pushing through the files but not really looking at them as she tried to collect her thoughts. The door opened quietly behind her and she knew it would be him, it had to be him.

“Carter...” Jack started, shutting the door with a sigh, “I've been trying to think how to apologize for-- the other night. But I have to admit, I don't know what happened.”  
She watched him silently, her mouth fixed in a frown. He put his hands on his hips and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

“I-- know it is a sore subject. I wasn't trying to--” Jack stopped and was silent for a long time as he put together what he meant and tried to say it exactly so.  
“He was important to you. You don't talk about him much...and I thought maybe it was because no one had asked.”

It was the right thing to say. If he had said it that way that night under the stoop, Peggy would have told him anything he wanted to know-- within reason. It was _not_ what he said though and her jaw set stubbornly at the memory.

Jack looked up at her sheepishly as if wondering if he managed to utterly make a mess of this again. She wanted to chastise him for his manners and how he had so rudely brought the subject about only to rehash old wounds-- but he seemed to _understand_ that without her saying it. 

How did a man truly manage to blunder so much? Peggy could have thrown all of this in his face, but she did not.

“... he was important to me.” she said instead and Jack straightened a bit more, reassured.

Peggy felt as if some part of that wall inside her chest was crumbling., cracks fissuring out and letting out a bit of what was held in.

“You said, back before Ukraine, that I must have loved him very much.”

Jack nodded.

Peggy gave a strained smile, “I did."  
She had to swallow back tightness in her throat to get the words out again, "And the other night I felt-- I am not one to speak easily about this when I feel it is being pried from me. When I feel I am being mocked for it.”

Jack shook his head, arms relaxing towards his sides as he drew closer. His voice was quiet.

“I wasn't-- I shouldn't have made light of it, Carter. I just didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't set out to upset you.”

“What did you “set out” to do then?” she rebutted, not giving an inch despite herself. She was not ready to forgive it yet. 

He struggled for a moment to find the words, biting into his lip for a moment and not making much eye contact.

“... a guy like that. The way you've held onto him? I just got to thinking, maybe that you think that is it for you. That there is no one else now.”

Peggy felt as if she could feel her every rib expand as she breathed. Jack looked uncertain if he should continue, but carried on with a little less difficulty.

“I wanted to tell you, that you deserve to be happy. That I don't think that's it for you.” he settled on, sighing with defeat.

Of all the things she had expected, that had been the very last. He was looking at her now and for a moment Peggy felt as if the entire room had shrank and all the light was filtering in on a single point. She could hear her pulse in her ears and she became very aware of how her tongue felt behind her teeth as it denied all orders to form some kind of reply.

He broke the silence before her.

“I have a dog.”

Peggy gave a start. Jack seemed a bit shocked himself.

“Sorry-- just, back to the family conversation. I didn't mention it... I uh, have a dog.”

 _Go with it_ , a voice in her mind ordered.

“I would not have thought you the type.”

“You're telling me. When I got back from Japan I didn't feel much like talking to anyone... didn't feel much like doing anything. I hadn't been offered this job yet and I was running on what was left of my pay from being a soldier.”

Peggy was suddenly reminded of the plane. They way he spoke now sounded similar to then, like he was revealing a secret he'd never shared with anyone before. 

“My brother brought me this mutt and I told him I didn't have time to look after some dog, and he said that was alright, because the dog was there to look after me.”

He trailed off. When Peggy said nothing, he looked away, embarrassed.

“Jack.”

He wouldn't look back at her at first, but when he finally did she smiled.

“Is that offer for a drink still open?”

“Why? You need one? Though honestly, I can't say it doesn't sound appealing to me right about now too.”

They both laughed nervously. Peggy felt the room begin to open up again, but still she was painfully aware of the presence of him.

“Shame we will have to wait until after work then.”

“It's a date.” Jack said simply, but Peggy saw that faint glint of mischief coming back into his eyes.

“Yes, a date with half the office also in attendance.”

“What can I say, Marge?” Jack said, making his expression gravely serious, “I'm a romantic.”

That brought the first genuine laugh Peggy had given in days.


	4. Pistol Packin' Mama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leviathan is not as gone as the SSR would hope and they make their presence and their animosity towards Peggy known in a very direct fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a direct continuation of this one. I planned to fit it all in one chapter, but by the time I hit 6000 words I figured it might just need to be split up a bit!
> 
> As always, their relationship is two steps forward and one big leap back.  
> The chapter title is another 1940's song! You guys should look them up sometime. I pretty much just listen to old music on a youtube loop while writing.

Peggy had expected the evening to go as it did every evening. The men would huddle around their usual lurk in the bar and she would sit at the booth with her drink and listen to them from afar.

It did not go as expected.

Jack had led her directly over with the rest of them and one agent relinquished his seat at a booth so Peggy could sit. Jack stood by her, arm leaning against the back of the seat. He seemed to knowingly direct his body in a way that directed the flow of conversation to her and the other gentlemen. Topics ranged from the usual, wives and reports, to the newest flicker which Peggy was more than knowledgeable on and also sprung ample opportunity for someone to make a cryptic joke about "what happened last time at the movies" they think they'll stick with radio.

It was-- fun. Peggy laughed and drank and there were hardly any jokes made at her expense. (One, was to the idea of a woman not being able to hold her liquor when she got down right giddy in her laughter... but she forgave it.)

A group of ladies from the operator board joined them later on and the group dispersed into smaller crowds as some left for the evening to return to spouses and others lingered for when the music began to play.

Jack took the opportunity once the booth was empty except for her, and slipped in right beside her. 

"Not a bad “date”, huh Carter?" he asked, putting a cigarette between his teeth and lightning it. He let his arm hang near the side of the table so the smoke was directed away. Peggy half turned more in her seat so she could look at him as they spoke.

"Not half so bad, but I should warn you I am under the distinct opinion that breathing those things in will kill you."

Jack only smiled, took a long drag and blew smoke out of his nose. Peggy rolled her eyes.

"No harm in a man having his vices."

"Have it your way. But next time we get into a chase on foot and your left wheezing behind me, don't say I didn't tell you so."

"You? Outrun me in these?" 

She gave a start as he tapped the heel of her shoe with the toe of his own beneath the booth. 

"It is an acquired skill." she insisted, drinking her bourbon a bit too quickly, "One I am very adept in."

He gave a very unconvinced "mmhmm" before turning his attention on his fellow agents who were in the process of making fools of themselves with the ladies. Peggy was content to enjoy the warmth of drink in her blood and though she reprimanded him, the scent of smoke both from cigarettes and cigars in the bar while distasteful reminded her of a mixture of things. Her father's pipe; the club on base where the men and women recreated during the war; Steve after he rescued the 107th and the way he looked at her when she came in the room in that dress. 

_The right partner._

She breathed in deeply, staring at the swirling spirals of smoke coming off Jack's cigarette. He brought it back to his lips and her eyes followed it. She was startled again to see him watching her with eyes that were far too soft. At some point he had put his arm over the back of the booth, his left hand near her shoulder.

"There's that look." Jack said, his voice quieter.

Peggy sat up slightly and set to her bourbon again.

"I'm not sure what look you are referring to."

" _That_ one. The look that says you're a thousand miles away... same look you have when you talk about him."

That was-- highly intuitive of Jack. Despite himself though, he looked slightly out of sorts now. Peggy was prepared to ask him how he managed to create such a catalog of her expressions, but in truth she could think of several times where her face and her very words had revealed her inner feelings on the matter. Her throat felt a bit tight, but not as much as it could have.

He picked up his drink with the same hand he held the cigarette and finished its contents.

"Do not worry on my account, Thompson." she said, drawing his attention back. She smiled, a soft slow spreading thing that conveyed a feeling of gratitude.  
"I assure you, I am... fine. I'm quite well in fact."

Jack did not seem convinced, but something in him seemed to relax and reopen. He snuffed out the embers on the end of his cigarette as he nodded.

"Is there anything that doesn't remind you of him?" Jack asked, his voice a bit harsher than he intended Peggy assumed by the way he tried to smooth out his words at the end of his sentence. He had a rather sheepish look now, as if he knew he had made a mistake in asking. Recognizing it was half the battle however.

It was different then usual. Peggy could _hear_ the concern in his voice. Concern for her. She bent her knee, turning further towards him in the booth and letting her leg rest on the seat now. She kept her leg tucked close so her skirt would not rise too far, but his eyes were no where near her hem. His eyes were fixed on hers.

"A lot of things remind me of him. Sometimes it... it bothers me, but other times it doesn't. This is one of those times."

Jack didn't say anything. He turned his face away and seemed to be itching to pull out another cigarette if only to have something to do with his hands. He set on turning his lighter between his index and thumb. The corners tapped on the table as he moved it.  
Peggy felt a question began to rise in the back of her throat, a question that made her stomach flutter. Was it dread? She could not say. It certainly did not feel like it.

"Are you jealous of him?"  
The tapping stopped, the lighter frozen in Jack's hand.

"Well-- well Jesus, Peg. He's Captain America. Who wouldn't feel a bit..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

Peggy could not find it in her to blame him, especially because at the moment she was trying to reconcile why her heart had jumped when he called her _Peg_. Had he ever once called her Peggy? No. It was always "Carter" or the dreaded "Marge"... never Peggy and certainly never Peg. He didn't seem to notice the slip at all.

"Inadequate?" she finished, not thinking. Jack let out a hissing breath as if it wounded him, followed by a wheezed laugh.

" _Thanks_ for that." 

"I'm sorry, but I don't recall giving the impression I was somehow holding you or anyone else to that standard."

Jack shrugged, "It isn't you. It's-- just a thought that's been nagging at me."

Peggy nodded.

"Like in Belarus. I bet Captain America never froze. Not for one second. He charged right through that line and saved my ass and every guy in my squad in Germany and then some." Jack murmured. He was off now in his own mind as Peggy had been a moment prior. 

"That isn't true. You didn't know him. He hid that part of himself from everyone. He was a _symbol_. He couldn't afford to let people know it, don't you see that?" Peggy insisted, leaning inwards unconsciously. Jack gave a gruff laugh, his chest jerking with the movement.

"Jack." her voice was firm, commanding his attention, "I don't know where this is coming from, but there is no reason to try and compare to him. You have your own qualities and skill and when you are not being a complete arse I might even be tempted to say you make a fine agent and a fine partner."

Their conversation was interrupted as more drinks were brought to them courtesy of their co-workers. They sat untouched on the table as Peggy stared Jack down with an intensity that made him laugh almost nervously,

"You sure know how to give a pep talk, Carter."

Back to Carter it would seem. He shut up then, focusing now on his refilled bourbon. It was a compulsion, when she moved and nudged the side of his thigh with her knee.

"What has gotten into you?" she persisted, but now his eyes _were_ on her hem and suddenly there was a rush of heat directly to her face.

His eyes eventually found her face again, his brows furrowed in that signature look she had come to know was his expression when he didn't quite know what to say.  
The music slowed in the background and for a moment Peggy thought he was going to answer her... but instead he gave a look over his shoulder and when he turned back the arm he had stretched behind her curled nearer around her.

"Dance with me, Carter?" he asked and it was not at all like before. It was a question for one and not just in his voice, but also his eyes. He was searching for something in her face and for a moment Peggy nearly said yes.

Instead she smiled softly and turned back to sit straight in her seat.

"Not tonight, Thompson."

His arm ventured back up away from her without argument. It was that lack of pressure that made her add at the last moment,

“Raincheck?”

He simply nodded and focused his attention back on his drink.

Peggy held her glass in both hands, wishing she could press the ice to her forehead and soothe away the heat spreading in her face.  
They spoke little after that, but the other agents returned from their dancing and the tension was replaced with bourbon and smoke and soon enough everyone was laughing again. 

Before the evening was over, Jack pressed his knee just once against her own. Peggy noted the touch lingered far too long to have been an accident, but she said nothing even as he shifted and seemed to be gently nudging her. Perhaps she was drunker than she thought but she felt the touch was questioning... tentative and silent. Peggy was not certain how to respond and so she acted upon instinct and gently pressed back.

Peggy did not quite understand the question or her answer, but Thompson hid a smile behind the rim of his glass.

 

\--

 

Peggy's heels clicked a steady rhythm on the concrete as she stepped off the street and up to the door to the office. Usually it was a straight uneventful walk taken so often that Peggy hardly noted much of the same images and people passing by. 

This time though, she was surprised to find Daniel still in the lobby and by the look of it he had been waiting for someone.

Cautiously she approached him and he took a few staggered steps of his own to close the distance.

“Were you waiting for me?” Peggy asked, her smile too wide. Daniel did not smile back.

“Jack. He was suppose to be in early to help take stock of our inventory, but he didn't show.” The term was a code way of saying “inventory and cleaning of agent weapons” with civilians around... but that was not what troubled her. Daniel's words hung in the air as if waited for her to fill the gap. Peggy's brows twitched inward slightly.

“I have not seen him.”

“ _Really_.” Daniel said, his voice filled with disbelief. Peggy moved past Daniel with a sigh of exasperation. She got half way down the hall before he called after her.

“Carter! Carter, wait.”

“Why should I?” she said harshly, throwing her arms at her side. Her briefcase smacked her leg, but she hardly noticed the pain.

“I wasn't trying to imply-- it's just you two seem closer now, which is great someone needs to be able to get him as good as he gives. I just thought maybe he might have mentioned he was going to skip it last night after one two many drinks.”

Peggy knew that was not all he thought, but he looked at her with a deeply apologetic expression. She bit her lip for a moment then shrugged lightly,  
“He didn't mention it. Thompson is known for shurking this particular duty then?” 

Daniel barked a laugh, “Every time.”

Why on Earth she found that charming Peggy could not say, but it was nice to have Daniel speaking to her normally again. She had turned down his offer of a date once in the past, but she was starting to see he would never hold that against her. She smiled at him and if she knew Jack's number, she would have had the operator board dial him up and get him here immediately. Thankfully, she did not need to bother.

“Speak of the devil.” Peggy muttered, nodding over Daniel's shoulder as Agent Thompson came in, holding the door open for a girl who looked about eleven. The little girl smiled up at him and went along her way. He caught Peggy's eye then and smiled himself until he saw Daniel.

Pushing his hands in his pockets he headed their way. Daniel sighed, frustrated.

“ _Thompson._ Forget you were taking inventory this morning?”

“That was today, huh? Well I--”

Whatever Thompson had said was lost behind a sudden and loud bang. Peggy felt a chill settle over her body and there was a sensation oddly like a bee sting on her collarbone. She groggily tried to lift her arm to swat whatever had stung her away, only to find the moment she moved her right arm there was a horrid stab of pain that radiated from the spot.

She touched it with her other hand, and her fingers came away red.

Looking up she saw three things;  
Daniel rushing toward her, his arms catching her as both of them fell without the stability of her own legs or his cane.

Thompson's face, pale and shell shocked for a moment before color came back to his face in a rush of rage. He moved then towards the one thing her vision was tunneling in on now... that eleven year old girl standing several feet away and pointing a gun at her.

The next shot hit into the ceiling as people hit the ground or rushed to aid Thompson who had rather easily knocked off the girl's aim by kicking her legs out from under her. He did not waste a moment subduing even such a child, holding her arms behind her back. The girl hardly put up a struggle however, her eyes rolling back in her head and her body convulsing once before she went completely still.

Peggy could vaguely hear Daniel speaking, but all the sounds were muffled and far away. Her vision swam, lights bursting in the corner of her eyes as she forgot to breathe in face of the pain. Peggy had been shot before though and she soon began breathing evenly and slowly as possible. Each breath stuttered and rattled in her chest, but came without tightness or the need to gasp. 

“Missed the lung.” she said, but could not hear her own voice. Daniel only nodded, laying her down on the ground and working with fumbling hands to try and unbutton her blouse to see the wound.

Stronger hands took his place and suddenly Peggy felt several buttons give way beneath their grip. She fixed the blond man in her vision with a steady glare despite the necessity, but he was busy removing his tie and folding it up. He pressed it hard against her shoulder and she clawed at his arm in agony for a bare moment before sense reclaimed itself and told her not to fight the help.

“The bullet's still in.” she heard Thompson's voice, “We need to get her upstairs.”

“We need to get her to a _hospital_.” Daniel's voice was more distinctive and louder. 

Too many hands. Too much light and too much _pain_. Peggy's eyes fluttered and she shook her head.

“Upstairs.” she croaked, and Daniel finally relented. Several agents came into her view now... or maybe her vision was doubling, it was hard to tell. She didn't make a sound as they lifted her up, her shoulder protesting the movement with more pain.

She felt cold and her shirt clung to her skin, wet with blood. The smell was everywhere, heavy and coppery and bringing to mind a hundred memories of a hundred different wounds and not all of them her own. It made her dizzy-- or maybe that was the blood loss.

They brought her into the elevator and standing as upright as she could, she leaned heavily into someone who in turn held her tightly around the waist, trying to keep her up. His arm was pressed across her, holding that makeshift bandage against her shoulder still.

“Hold on, Peggy. Relax. You're okay. We're okay.” the man's voice was so shaken and so quiet her mind rebelled against the idea it could belong to Thompson... but it did. And for once, she did as suggested and relaxed.

 

\---

 

It was voices, soft and low and coming from somewhere off in the distance that brought Peggy back to. She was aware now of laying on a stiff rather uncomfortable cot with blankets over her and an IV in her arm.

Her shirt had been completely removed, leaving her in her slip and skirt, but she hardly cared at this point. There was a bandage tapped snuggly on her shoulder holding a gauze pad in place. There was a faint dot of red near the middle of it.

“Peggy?” 

Daniel. He sat in a chair at her side, leaning onto the edge as she stirred.

“Mmm... well then. Ouch.” she mumbled and Daniel visibly relaxed with relief.

“What the bloody hell just happened?” she continued, trying to sit up but finding that her movement was limited and her limbs felt so very heavy.

“Easy. The doc gave you something for the pain. You might be feelin' a bit drowsy.” Daniel said gently, scooting his chair closer to the cot.

“What _happened?_ ” she insisted, but laid back on the pillows propped behind her back despite the stubbornness set in her jaw.

“The kid-- no one was paying attention to her. She just waltzed right in _right_ by Thompson and she just fired. Jesus, Carter, if she had known how to handle the kick of that gun she would have shot you right in the heart they said.” Daniel was getting off track, but Peggy let him speak and get it out of his system. He looked at her, baffled she could remain so calm.

“Leviathan?”

“We don't know, but it has to be doesn't it? Training little girls to be killers...”

“Where is she?”

“Well... that's the weird thing. She collapsed right after the second shot and when she came to she started acting like she doesn't know what happened. She says she left for school and then woke up here and-- started crying for her mother before we could get anything else.”

Peggy grimaced, shifting more towards Daniel and practicing at flexing and moving her legs.

“Hypnosis?”

“It's been suggested, but you know Thompson. He went at her hard. It wasn't until she started tearing up that he just sort of stopped and shut himself up in Dooley's old office. Told us to pull everything on the Ukraine and Leviathan and basically anything remotely connected.”

She could imagine it and frowned deeply at the thought of Thompson interrogating a little girl-- but that little girl had just _shot_ her, so her sympathy was a bit short lived.

“Anything else?”

Daniel swallowed hard, “We think this was a targeted attack. We sent people to your home to make sure Angie was okay.”

Peggy's eyes flared at that, “Is she?”

“Yes, but we need to move you both to a safe house.”

“ _What?_ No. I need to be on this case, Daniel.”

“You need to be _resting_. This wasn't about the SSR, Carter, this was about _you_.” Daniel said her last name firmly, distancing away from a concerned friend to a fellow agent. Peggy sighed and this time when she sat up she didn't stop. She let a wave of dizziness pass, before she kicked her shoes out from under the cot and slipped them on.

“I need to borrow a shirt.” she mumbled.

“Peggy--”

She ignored him, wincing as her shoulder tingled with pain at her slight movements.

“I'm going home.” she said firmly, standing up and using a wall to steady herself, “I'll rest there, no where else. Then tomorrow I will be in this office ready to find out who is manipulating the children in our _own city_ and I swear to God, Sousa if you do not get me a shirt I will bloody well walk through this office in my shift.”

 

–--

 

Judging by the way all her fellow agents were staring, they had not expected her to come briskly through the line of desks, face ashen and looking like she might fall over at any moment. Peggy had tucked Daniel's shirt into her skirt and had rolled the sleeves up on one elbow. With her arm in a sling, the other arm hang empty at her side. Daniel was hurrying behind her, shaking his head at inquiring but ultimately concerned eyes. She got to the Chief's office and pushed open the door.

Jack jerked so hard his chair squeaked. He looked up from where he had been leaning his forehead into his hand and staring vacantly over a stack of files, but the moment he saw her he was up so fast his chair hit the back wall.

“ _What are you doing up_?” he demanded, looking both shocked and nearly angry. It set Peggy on edge, though she knew well enough how stubborn she was being. She could not afford to be anything less and so set her self squarely and tried to ignore what she thought was the smell of fresh blood coming from _her_.

“Relax, Thompson.” she said, remembering how often he dispensed the same advice to her, “I'm only coming to say I am going home. I phoned Mr. Jarvis and he is bring a car around and I will be back in the morning.”

Jack looked at Daniel, but he only shrugged.

“We could station some guys outside the house.” Daniel offered, giving up on argument. Jack set his jaw hard and Peggy could see the tendons in his cheeks working.

“Fine. Carter, _bed rest_. Don't bother showing up tomorrow, we have this covered until you are back at 100%.”

“You can't do this without me.” she said with so much assurance for a moment Jack could not think of a rebuttal.

“Carter, that's an _order._ ”

She raised one eyebrow at him, her silent question of his authority over her not going unnoticed.

“Sousa, close the door. Carter, _sit_ before you kill yourself.”

Daniel looked hesitant, but after Peggy gave him an approving sideways glance he reached out and shut the door with a click.

Jack came around the front of the desk and pulled his chair with him, setting it down for her. He sat on the edge of his desk and gestured for her to take a seat.  
Peggy almost refuses, _almost_. 

The swirling in her head was getting more intense and the pain that was dulled a moment before was beginning to return with each heightened pulse of her blood. She felt a cold sweat forming behind her neck, hidden thankfully by her hair and after a moment, she sat.

“... you're not okay, Marge. You were _shot_ three hours ago.” he rubbed his hand against his brow, laughing mirthlessly, “Jesus Christ, this isn't some argument about the sexes, this is just a fact. You need to take it easy--”

“ _No_. This is too important, Thompson! I'm not saying I'm looking to be running around with the other agents, but you need me here. You need my insight and my experience handling Leviathan.”

Jack couldn't argue with that so instead he shifted, bracing his hands on the side of the desk and looked down quietly for a long time. His leg began to move, jarring up and down as he tapped his foot against the floor.

“Carter... you are important too. Do you know how quiet it has been up here since we told them what happened? Everyone in this office, _everyone_ is working around the clock tonight on this.”

Peggy had been so focused on not falling over on her way up she hadn't paid much mind to the faces passing her. Following Jack's line of sight through the window on the closed door she saw now the somber attitude around the agents... yet they rushed about, passing files and examining the tagged weapon taken no doubt from her shooter.  
She looked back at Jack and he is looking at her the way he had that night in the bar; that night on the street in the rain-- half pained, but his eyes too soft.

“Go to the safe house, Carter. Take your friend. Get some sleep. Come back in a day or two. I'll keep you in the loop.”

“I do not need the safe house.” Peggy insisted, but she can feel her control of the argument slipping when she can't meet his gaze.

“Then go back to your apartment--”

She nearly sighed with relief and thanked him, until he cut her off.

“-- but I'm coming with you. With three other agents.”

Peggy stared at him, for once flabbergasted herself. He smirks like he just found her Achilles heel in all of this, but she tilted her chin up a little higher and gave a curt nod.

“Fine.”

“Good.” Jack nodded, “I'll get Sousa to round the volunteers.”

“I can't imagine you'll get that many.” Peggy breathed, resting back into the chair and taking a moment to just let the exhaustion settle over her.

It turns out she is right. They have eight.

 

\--

 

Angie is near tears with worry the moment Peggy steps through the door looking far more worse for wear then she was in the Chief's old office.

“Oh Peg. Peg-- they say you got shot? Did she get shot?” Angie looked to Jarvis, who had Peggy's arm tucked tightly in his own as he settled her into an armchair in the foyer.  
Thompson was too busy looking up at the high ceilings and lavish furniture in silent appraisal (or judgment) to provide an answer, so Jarvis took over.

“Yes, but they say--”

“I'll be alright.” Peggy added, forcing a smile.

“That I am certain of, but until then I think another shot of pain killers would do you well Ms. Carter.” Jarvis murmured, bringing a foot rest out from underneath the chair. Peggy quickly set her feet on it and leaned back as much as she dared.

“Gosh, Peg. Do you wanna lay down? Hell, you want a scotch?”

“I would not recommend the mixing of alcohol with _morphine_ , Ms. Martinelli.”

“Then just give me the scotch.” Peggy said, huffing a short laugh.

Angie smiled then, but it faded when the three other agents entered the house, drawing her attention when one whistled lowly.

“Stark has some nice digs for you ladies.” the agent remarked, giving Angie a sideways look that Peggy is certain is going to send her flying for his throat. 

Jack cleared his at the same moment however and gestured at them dismissively, “Perimeter. I want one of you on the front door and two in the car after.”

The agents grumbled and quickly left. It was getting to be a bit of crowd as it was. Peggy felt slightly claustrophobic with all the noise and bodies around her. The moment they were gone she felt herself relax and submit easily to the care of the two people in this world she trusted the most.

“And I want a sweep every hour!” Jack called out after the agents, staring them down with his hands on his hips until they were gone out the door.

“And what about you Drill Sergeant?” Angie asked, her voice brimming with mockery. Jarvis hid a smile as he put a syringe into a stopper of morphine and drew out a dose.

“I'll be keeping an eye on things in here.”

“ _Will you now_.”

Angie looked away from him dismissively and turned her attention back to Peggy as if he was not even present. Jack smiled ruefully at the treatment, and shrugged to himself before heading out of the room to do a sweep.

“We are not _seriously_ letting Agent Jack-ass stay with us over _night_.... are we?

Peggy grimaced as Jarvis set the needle in the crook of her arm, holding a cotton ball soaked in alcohol against it as he did. He seemed startled by Angie's language, but the hands that held her arm were gentle and steady.

“He'll behave himself... he really believes he is here to keep us safe.”

“Believes?”

“Oh, please. Even with a bullet wound, I could take at least five men.”

Jarvis did not look impressed as he removed the needle and rolled Sousa's shirt sleeve back down.

“You speakin' from experience, English?” Angie joked, but Peggy's reply could not be more serious.

“Yes.”

Her eyelids fluttered closed as the pain faded away to numbness. Peggy was vaguely aware of her shoes being removed and something moving down her legs, leaving them colder. A blanket was then tucked around her and with the mixture of warmth and morphine flooding her senses, she let herself sleep.

 

–--

It is 3 in the morning and Peggy is dreaming.

She is in the plane with him. She is holding Steve's hand and he is looking at her so gently you would not have thought they were going to crash any moment into the ice beneath. His hand is touching her face, which could not be right-- who was steering the plane?

He says her name and when he kisses her his mouth is unbearably cold, but she can not pull away. She kisses him back fiercely, trying to force warmth into his frail body.  
So small. So kind. The bravest man she would ever know. She would have loved him even if he never changed. She would have loved him for simply being the kid from Brooklyn and he would have loved her for all she was. _He did._.

The ground is coming up fast through the window and Peggy holds him to her so tightly as if she could shield him. The plane crashes into the snow and her body jerks her awake. Her heart aches worse than her shoulder.

It takes Peggy a moment to collect her bearings. The lights were out except for one, glowing softly on the other side of the room. Jack was there, laying on the sofa with his jacket bunched up under his head. Peggy could tell by the way he breathed that Jack isn't asleep, or if he was, he woke up from the noise she made when she did.

Her tights were gone; the stockings bunched up and tucked into her shoes off to the side. It occurs to her no woman would ever have done that and certainly no man whose profession was in service as a butler.

Peggy told herself not to think about it. Instead, she thought about the fact her legs hurt and her back has a crick in it and all she wants to do is stand.

Gingerly she sat up straight, feeling less exhausted and thankfully not in the same amount of pain. There was still however, a nice sized hole torn through her so she made an effort not to upset it too much.

She needed more morphine. No. She needed a _drink_.

Testing her feet against the floor, she slowly began to rise.

“Whaddya need?” Jack said, his voice heavy and thick with much needed sleep. When Peggy looked up at him he was already sitting up, bracing his weight on his forearms. His hair was messed and sticking up in the back and his suit was wrinkled from where he has been laying.

“Drink.”

“Mm, Stark's butler said you shouldn't.”

Peggy could truly not tell if he was being serious, but half a second later he got up and headed over to a stand where a crystal glass sat. He lifted off the top, the glass clinking quietly and poured two glasses. One held a noticeably smaller portion.

Before he could bring it to her, Peggy stood and met him half way. Her legs felt wobbly, but it felt good to not have pressure on her shoulder. She would have happily stretched if it weren't for the fear of popping a stitch in her shoulder.

Jack surveyed her cautiously, as if deciding whether or not he needed to be prepared to swoop in and catch her. Peggy noted he was not wearing shoes.  
He offered her the larger portioned glass.

“I'm on the clock, remember?” 

Peggy smiled, eyes casting down and making her eyelashes stand out starkly against her cheeks. 

“Of course.”

It's too quiet and for once the silence is not a welcome thing. Jack must have sensed it or perhaps felt the same because a moment later he strolled over to the record player by the sofa and turned it on. The music was a bit too loud at first, but he lowered the volume until it was a soft background sound.

Peggy followed after him and sat down on the sofa. The fabric was warm against her bare legs, still holding the heat from where Jack had been laying. He sat on the coffee table in front of her, his knee bumping hers until she moved her legs aside.

Jack took a drink and made a face, “ _Brandy._ ”

“A change from our usual repertoire.” 

“Yeah... yeah it's a day of changes in usual “repertoire”.” he murmured, letting the bronze colored liquid move around in his glass.

Peggy felt like she should say something to coax whatever is weighing on him out, but for once she does not need to.

“... you nearly died today.” he whispered, still tilting his glass around and around.

“A shoulder wound never killed anyone.”

“She wasn't _aiming_ for your arm, Peg.”

There it was again. Peggy felt her throat catch a little when he said her name and she took a deep drink to try and soothe it out. Jack furrowed his brow.

“You can't tell me you aren't shaken up.”

“Why not?” Peggy said, finding her own voice lowering to a whisper to match his. Jack has that look all over his face again; soft and hurt but this time also _scared_.

“Because I am. Because Sousa is. Because--- _everyone_ is. And I don't know if this is some deal with you not wanting to look weak but Peggy... you gotta give me some kinda read here.”

His eyes searched her face and she was not quite certain he'd find anything there... as for once she truly can not think of a thing to say.

“...because I have no idea what you are thinking, and I'm trying to be here for you. Yeah?”

Jack looked down at his drink again, his knee moved up and down as he fidgeted and jittered and watched his brandy more than he drank it.

“You are here with me.” Peggy blurted at last and quickly took another drink-- or maybe two.

“You know what I mean.”

Like in Belarus. Like in Ukraine. Like today when he held her and tried to keep her from bleeding out in an elevator and used the presence of other agents as a cover for wanting to protect her _himself_ and.. and took off her stockings like an utter idiot and left them in a mess and probably put runs in them and-- 

“I'd like to cash in on that raincheck.” Peggy finds herself saying.

Jack doesn't understand at first. His confusion smooths away to understanding in the time it takes for the song to change and he looks at her arm in the sling with apprehension.

“I'm fine.” she said before he could ask, and set down her glass.  
“I'd-- just really like to not think about all this right now." she laughed quietly, "That's all I can think of and thinking it just makes it come back. So?"

She stood up and looked down at him with a soft frown, but he does not move for a solid ten long seconds before he murmured “yeah, yeah okay” a few times and set down his own glass.

They moved into the open center of the room and it was Peggy who took Jack's hand first. She put one of his hands on her hip and tells herself it is because she does not want him accidentally bumping her wound. His other hand she held in her own good one, and suddenly found it was rather difficult to dance with one arm, until Jack's palm slid around to her lower back and steadied her.

They don't so much dance as gently sway to the music. Once and awhile Jack would take one small step and she'd follow, or sometimes she decided to step and sure enough he let her take the lead.

Back and forth they moved, and Peggy wasn't sure when he curled her hand against his chest or when they started to lean in so close she couldn't tell whether it was her pulse beating so rapidly or his. The music seemed to fade out until all she could hear was the sound of his breathing which was only occasionally interrupted by a deep content sigh from within his chest. His forehead brushed hers and Peggy knew without a shadow of a doubt it was not on accident. 

It wasn't an accident when she presses back either. Or when his nose nudged against hers, or when his mouth came to press against her cheek.... but it is not where he intended it to be.

It was not an accident that Peggy turned her face away from him but it is an accident when the word "Don't" comes so quiet and shaking from her lips she can hardly believe it is her voice. In one short second Jack goes rigid and stops moving. It is not an accident, however, when she stepped back and tried to remember how to breathe.

Jack took one ragged breath and let go of her hand; he let go of her waist. He just-- let's go, his arms are heavy at his sides and his hands are clenching to try and keep them from feeling so _empty_.

Peggy felt an apology bubble up in her throat, but Jack has grabbed his jacket and pulling it on and grabbed his shoes and before she can even begin to think how they both just _fucked up so bad_ he was half way out of the room.

“I'm going to do a sweep and relieve one of the guys.”

“Jack--”

He wouldn't look at her, he wouldn't even stop walking away from her as he wrenched the front door open.

“...don't worry about it, Carter.” he said, trying to hide the embarrassed tightness in his voice.

The music is deafening now as Peggy stood, shoulder throbbing with pain in the middle of an empty room. She pulled the needle up quickly from the record player and felt a powerful need to be _away_ , so she went to her room and shut the door and when she lay back in her bed her shoulder shooting pain up and down her spine she welcomed it gladly. The pain outweighs everything else and seers the image of Jack's face so utterly confused and so utterly _hurt_ into nothing but white.


	5. Why Don't You Do Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy discovers the mastermind behind the attempted revival of Leviathan and traces its roots to their very front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. So. BIG NEWS. I have a full time job now, if you could not tell and I am in the process of getting a new car and apartment! I am settling into the job now nicely. Now bad news, we are quickly reaching the close of this story. I planned only about five parts, but now part 6 will be the official end. This story was meant to reflect the idea of how Peggy x Jack might begin and having hopefully accomplished that by part 6, this fic will be completed! I do expect I will write more in this particular universe however and may create a compilation for one-shots and other short stories.
> 
> Without further ado, part 5.

It was easy to think perhaps Jack's behavior the following day in the office was inspired from care for Peggy's condition. It was easy to think perhaps too that Peggy held a warm regard towards him now for being the one there holding her wound tight and carrying her to the infirmary within the SSR.

It would take far more than a few shared smiles and the ritual cups of coffee to convince Sousa, however.

The smiles were chilly. The coffee untouched. Peggy and Jack orbited around one another certainly, but it was more they were doing their very best to repel each others gravity. There was an all but palpable tension between them; their behavior was putting Sousa on edge. The falseness of the act would soon become apparent to everyone else too as there was no way their conflicting personalities could bare the silence for long.

“The girl has skipped class nearly every day for the past three weeks during the same class period.” Jack muttered, pointing to a statement taken from the mother who had been brought in for questioning the night before. Peggy did not want to think about the night before and so she nodded curtly.

“Did they have an explanation?”

“Figured she was ditching her mathematics. She is a problem child. The parents had a conference with the teacher yesterday and assured it would stop.”

“Then she came here.” Peggy sighed, reaching out to move the document to her line of sight. Jack pulled his arm away so quickly you'd think he thought she was set upon hurling him over her shoulder. He tried to cover the rash motion by rubbing the back of his neck. Daniel gave him a pointed look which Jack took pains not to return.

“We need to cross reference other truant children. There could be more of them.... and if hypnosis is involved, there is a possibility if we reintroduce Annie--”

“The _suspect_.” Jack corrected. Peggy's lips pressed into a line, letting them fall free after a moment. Jack stared at a fixed point on the table, not really looking at the papers or maps, but rather actively trying not to look at _her_.

“If we reintroduce her to similar situations from that day, it may trigger a memory.”

“Or trigger her to relapse into an assassin.” Jack said, his voice edging towards annoyance. 

“If you have a better idea then _say it_. If not, then I will happily follow the most promising lead _myself_. Alone.” Peggy snapped much quicker than usual, looking up at Jack over the documents with a glare. There was something different in the way they argued, Daniel noted. They argued endlessly certainly, but always with an air of wanting an understanding-- there was none of that now.

Peggy's arm was still bound up and she looked quite ashen. The only color was right on the apples of her cheeks, brought on no doubt from pain rather than health. She bore it like no one could, but Daniel could not help but think it was because whatever else was troubling the pair was far more center in her mind than her wound.

Jack removed his hand from his neck and clapped his hands together loudly, turning to address the other agents gathered around the desk. His entire body language was utterly dismissive.

“Alright. We need to talk to her friends, teachers... anyone who might have seen her coming and going. We need to keep on the mother and father, find out if they are involved-- stake out the house. Sousa, you take the school. Myself and you three will be taking the girl on a little walk to see if she can retrace her steps from the SSR front door. I want her kept on a _tight leash_ you hear? As for the rest of you? Keep pulling threw Leviathan related intel. If someone so much as orders a vodka on the rocks, I want to hear about it.”

There was a short chorus of laughter.

“And me?” Carter said, her voice crisp and cold. Jack had readily stolen her plan and the agents had accepted it without a second word. Daniel felt something in his chest twist.

Jack regarded her for a moment, then turned away to pick up his jacket and follow the other three agents to where the little girl was being held.

“Sousa can look after you... if he's feeling up to it.”

Daniel felt his own jaw tighten in time with hers.

“I do not require _looking_ after. I should be going with you. My being with her might help associate better with what she was instructed to do. Her entire mission was focused on killing--”

“What part of this is a good idea, exactly? Yes! Let's bring the target with us so if she does snap she can try again and get rid of the thorn in my _goddamn_ side.” 

It was as Daniel thought... only a matter of time.

No one laughed now. In fact, the agents not picked for special assignment filed off with eyes cast downwards. They were like children rushing out of a room where mother and father were fighting. Daniel waited for Peggy to say something, but she merely looked stricken and faintly hurt-- then it was stitched up behind a steely mask. 

“You are an utter ass.” she said, clear and audible. No one said a word sideways, but there were a dozen astonished expressions. Daniel was no exception.

Jack was breathing unevenly and when he pulled on his jacket he did so so roughly his arm caught in the sleeve.

Daniel swallowed, finding venom on his tongue.

“Of course she can come with me. Going in the line of fire? I'll need the best of us to watch my back.”

Jack paused on his way past Daniel, saying nothing but looking at him with a frown that appeared so genuinely pained you'd have thought it was him with a gunshot wound. He gave Daniel a curt not and moved on. He did not once meet Peggy's eyes. 

She pretended not to notice.

 

–---

 

“It was a good idea.” Daniel said at last after one agonizingly long silent cab ride to the girl's school. He had kept relatively quiet for most of the journey as Peggy had been far off and lost in her own thoughts-- a combination of being focused on the task at hand and... more.

“Which?” she asked, exiting the cab carefully.

“Having the girl retrace her steps. If Jack doesn't scare her half to death, it might lead them somewhere promising.”

Peggy smiled faintly, “It was a good idea, if I was not nearly positive it is not going to work.”

She did not elaborate as she briskly headed up to the double doors of the city school. Daniel hung back for a moment with a baffled expression before hurrying to catch up with her.

“I needed him distracted.” she offered at last, happy to dangle bits of her plan but not quite ready to let it all spill. She was glad it was Daniel with her honestly. He had a cool head on his shoulders and despite their distance of late, he did trust her at his back.

Hell, he trusted her anywhere.

“...so you didn't really want to go with them?”

“Absolutely not. I wanted Thompson to think I wanted to go with them so he would not keep me from following the truly most promising lead. Leviathan never does anything in short measure, and these imposter will be no different.” she paused, looking at him with a glow of confidence that was strikingly different from the expression she pulled when Jack had insulted her.

“Mark me, if they trained one child, they trained more.”

 

–---

 

The principal of the school was a rather slight statured man with grey peppered through his brown hair. He was not accustomed to speaking to police, having turned a few shades paler when the secretary let him know there were two agents of the SSR wanting to speak to him. He did however seem to relax some when he learned their purpose.

“Truants?” the principal rose one greying eyebrow.

“Yes. A list if you please of all girls who have been reprimanded for tardiness, unwarranted absence or any similar infractions.” Peggy said, voice crisp and direct. 

The principal was not accustomed to being spoken to by a woman in such a way either it seemed.

“Well, I feel I am entitled to ask what this is regarding!” the words came out more a declaration than a true question. Peggy smiled thinly and adjusted her arm in her sling.

“Cracking down on juvenile-- crime rates.” Daniel added, looking between Peggy and the principal with a slight air of uncertainty. Peggy's eyes widened just a fraction as if to silently question where he had learned to lie.

“Yes. Juvenile crime rates. We regret to inform you Miss Annie Lanport was picked up a few days--”

The principal snorted, “It figures.”

He stood abruptly from his desk and went over to a cabinet, opening it with a rough tug and briskly flipping through several files. He produced five.

“Miss Lanport--” he tossed one file down, “--is a colorful one. Received three detentions this year so far that are unrelated to truancy mind you. First infraction was biting a girl who brushed pencil shavings unto her desk. Can you believe it? It's the parents I always say! Spare the rod--”

“Mmm, quite. The other four girls then?” Peggy interrupted, snatching up the file and opening it to read the infractions detailed in the report. Daniel peered over her shoulder, but could not make out much.

“They've formed a little gang of sorts. Never had a peep from the lot of them, then they got all together with Miss Lanport and started setting on making the school their personal stomping ground.”

Peggy nodded, “When did this begin?”

“Like I said. The parents most likely don't--”

“I meant when did they begin spending time together? Skipping class? Biting mathematics teachers?”

The principal did not look pleased to be interrupted, a trait no doubt cultivated from years of being able to preach to the helpless children of this school who had no choice but to listen to him prattle. Peggy was no school girl and had no time for speeches.

“Oh. Well, sometime I think around the spring. Within the second month of school. It was just the two at first--”

“Which?”

The principal produced another file from the small stack he carried, a younger girl named Carol.

“Carol Daniels. Then one by one they picked up momentum.”

“Where is Carol today? And these other girls?” Daniel asked, taking the other files from the principal.

“Carol should be in history and these two-- these two should be in mathematics. One, Elizabeth Brown, has been out with a flu the past two days. Her mother brought a note from the physician.”

“May I see it?” Peggy instantly perked.

“Er--”

Daniel looked at the man pointedly, “We can always come back with a warrant and a whole car of officers to interview each girl individually...”

“No no! It is no trouble, I just was trying to imagine how it could possibly be relevant?”

“We'll judge that.” Daniel said curtly.

The principal seemed more apt to follow his instruction, which Peggy was all too used to-- so she did as she was all too used to and ignored him. The principal produced the note and Peggy took it quickly, eyes scanning over the writing rapidly.

Her lips pressed together and she did her best to hide a frown.

“Carter?” Daniel muttered, looking over her to see the note looked-- rather ordinary.

“Thank you, sir. We will be happy to dispense a talking to to each lady involved at a later date. Would Friday work for you?”

“Well uh--”

“Splendid! Friday. Mr. Jack Thompson, our most senior and best agent will be 'round at 9am sharp to give them a proper talking to.”

“That is quite irregular... but if you think it will hel--”

“You are absolutely right, sir. Completely right. 8 am is far better.”

Daniel had to press his fist to his mouth to keep from laughing at the bewildered expression on the principal's face as Peggy shook his hand quickly. That and the idea of how Jack would react to being volunteered to have to speak to a room full of prepubescent girls. He could hardly handle one full grown woman.

“You-- you can not be taking the files with you though!” the principal insisted, pulling them free from Peggy's arm.

“Oh! Of course. Well, good day sir. Friday 8am? Yes. Alright.”

Without another word Peggy turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Daniel started and hurried to catch up with her. The principal hung by his door, watching them as he shook his head.

They were half out the front door of the school when Daniel tried to slow Carter down.

“You mind telling me _what_ is going on?” 

Her reply was to press the now crumpled doctor's note against his chest.

“The handwriting.”

“Yes?”

“I know it. I remember it. Look at the symbol.” 

Daniel did. A heart with a curved line within it right by the name. Peggy swallowed, eyes alight with fire. The gall of it. The _nerve_. There was only one person who would act so recklessly, so intent now upon being recognized.... by Peggy.

“This note was written by Dottie Underwood.”

It took a moment for Daniel to register what this truly meant, but once he did he felt dread sink deep in his stomach.

“Elizabeth. The girl...”

“I think perhaps, our next goal should be the Brown's household... and I fear we may be too late.”

 

–---

 

Carter's duplicity had not gone unnoticed it seemed as by the time the pair got back to the SSR, Jack and his men had already returned.

“Carter, my office. _Now._ ” were the first words out of Jack's mouth.... while holding the door open to _Dooley's_ office.

Peggy felt her throat seize with such a cocktail of emotions that she could not discern whether they were anger or disappointment or whether she simply wanted to strike a fist out and dare him to try and command her again.

Instead, Peggy crossed the few steps to the office and waited, staring at him directly in a way neither of them had dared. She nodded her head toward the open room.

_You first._

Jack held her gaze and Peggy could hear her pulse hammering in her ears as time stood still and the tension pulled between them like the fraying ends of string. She saw him swallow and felt her own throat do the same.

He pushed the door open on its hinges and went in. Peggy followed after and closed the door behind her and shut the blinds on the window.

“So. After the phenomenal waste of time that was taking that girl around town-- which by the way ended with one agent getting a short kick in... well. Let's just say I am starting to think this girl is just a bad egg.”

“Bad egg's seldom slip into government buildings and shoot agents.” Carter retorted slowly, sighing as if she were a teacher herself correcting the insipid answer of a student.

Jack's jaw tightened.

“And what about you and Sousa?”

“It's Dottie Underwood.”

The tension in Jack's face broke as he barked a laugh of disbelief. 

“Yeah? You mean the girl who left three pints of blood all over Howard Stark's plane? She is dead, Carter.”

“This note. It is distinctly her handwriting and the mark as well. She couldn't help herself!”

She offered the forged doctor's slip to Jack who took it roughly and barely gave it a glance. His eyes did linger for a moment on the clear sign of Leviathan, but then he shook his head.

“Okay, but we knew it was at least semi-Leviathan related to start. But Dottie Underwood?”

“Who else would target me directly? Leviathan was not so specific. This is a _vendetta_ , I assure you.”

Jack did not argue, but he did not give any sign of affirmation either. He said nothing for so long that Peggy shifted to balance on the heel of her shoe impatiently.

“Well?”

Jack looked up at her briefly, then back down at the note which he tossed carelessly onto his desk.

“It doesn't prove anything, Carter. And it certainly doesn't help us find--”

“She has Elizabeth Brown!” she interrupted quickly.

“ _Who_?” Jack asked, voice tinged with annoyance and growing frustration.

“One of the girls. Dottie wrote this note so she could keep her without arousing suspicion. We need to go to this girls home. Confirm she is there or kidnapped or _worse_.”

“What-- you don't think someone would notice if an entire family had disappeared over night?”

“It is worth _checking_. I will go--”

“No--”

“-- I'll take Sousa, I'll look into it myself. Just do not leave this girl help--”

“-- Carter, you are not going.. Christ, _would you listen for one sec_ \--”

“-- Jack, I will _not_ leave one more child to be tortured and warped at the hands of--!”

“ _I'm not going to let that bitch kill **you** , Peggy!_” Jack's voice rose to a shout, his fist connecting with the wood of his desk so suddenly and loudly that Carter could not help but nearly jump out of her skin. 

“If it's her-- _if_ it is her... then she is planning this whole thing. She _wants_ you angry and hunting for her. She wants you reckless and half-cocked!”

The only sound now was Jack breathing, harsh and ragged with his fist still tight and pressed against the desk. 

Carter felt her face flush with heat, “...I am not so easily killed.”

Jack laughed, a mirthless sound as he pushed off the desk and ran both hands through his hair. He let the blond strands go and they fell in front of his eyes. Peggy noted now how very tired he looked. She felt a small sympathetic smile inch at the corner of her mouth, but she let it fall back as quickly as it appeared. She was too angry at him still to try and reassure him.

“Hell.” Jack muttered, moving around to sit on the front of the desk. His smile was as mirthless as his laugh. He looked up at her through his hair, his expression too much like his face that day on the plane... struggling to hold something in that demanded to be spoken.

He was going to speak and Peggy wanted so badly for him to. Peggy wanted so badly for him _not_ to.

“... what are we doing, Carter?” he said, and the dam was broken.

That first dance. The drinks. The way he had touched his leg against hers. The way they'd leaned so closely under the stoop sheltered from the rain.... the last dance and how he'd leaned in to kiss her and Peggy had felt something she thought gone forever begin to bud forth again.

“I thought-- I don't know what I thought.” he huffed a long sigh, his words falling into the breathy sound.

There was a beat.

“I'm sorry, Carter.” he said, voice small as if trying to pull away from the memory his apology brought up... and yet entirely sincere. It sent a sharp pang right down her stomach.

“I read you wrong.” he chuckled, “Maybe I should stop trying, yeah? I never get it right.”

“You didn't.” the words fell from her mouth as surely as _Don't_ had left her lips that night. Jack nodded and huffed a laugh at what he assumed was her readiness to agree.

“No. Sorry, I mean that yes you did rather muck it up, but... but the rest...”

Jack looked up at her then, his brow tight with confusion and embarrassment. Peggy imagined her own face mirrored the expression.

“.... I don't know what we are doing either.” she finished, trying to hide the subtle shake in her voice. There was so much silence lingering between their words as they turned their eyes from one another yet again she wondered for a moment if the agents outside thought they had finally done each other in. The thought made her chest hiccup slightly with a repressed laugh.

Jack's eyes were drawn up by the sound and they both tried hard not to look away again. There was no point in trying to hide what both of them had come to know. There was-- something here. There was something that existed between them that teetered with little effort, but much strain between animosity and respect; a feeling that moved between them that was both at ease and ill. Peggy could feel it within her, taunt and threatening to break as surely as Jack did. They wanted something from the other and could not quite place what it was. Respect? Admiration? Approval? None of these fit the bill and yet all did. Something however, was left to be desired. Peggy could nearly feel every rib in her chest expand as she drew in a breath, letting the tension in her spine ease as the air escaped past her lips in a sigh. She heard the same sound from Jack's lips, noting how his chest was falling in time with hers. There was no time for this, her mind snapped in retaliation to her idle thoughts. 

“We should probably--” Jack began.

“-- go see if Elizabeth's parents yet live?” Peggy finished grimly.

“I was going to say “discuss this later”-- but if you... just draw a line for me. Draw it right now, Carter because if you don't I might get it in my head to make an ass of myself again.”

The implication behind that sentence was enough to make Peggy feel a very unwanted and unprofessional flutter in her stomach. She swore inwardly, her mouth half opened and once again patiently waiting for a reply to pop into her head.

It was obvious what she should say. She should draw the line. She should stop this foolish back and forth right now and return to the days where they barely noticed one another except to _not_ notice one another. The words would not come.

“I rather think that is an unavoidable event, Jack.” she said instead, her laugh soft and nearly inaudible.

It took him a moment to realize that was the extent of her reply and in another moment he was frowning and rubbing his hands over his eyes again.

“You're _killing_ me, Carter.” he groaned.

“Look-- in the past three days I've been shot, nearly snogged by a man whom I quite frequently detest and there is good chance a woman who delights in the corruption of young girls is running amok when she should be, as you said, _dead_.”

Jack had never looked so utterly scandalized in his life at her mention of the “incident”, but instead of drawing further attention to it he simply nodded along with her words.

“So. I agree that we set this aside until a further date and do our job without clawing at one another's throats.”

Jack stood up abruptly and for a moment Peggy thought he was attempting a daring escape. Instead he moved around to the coat wrack to pull his jacket off. She could feel the air shift around him as he slipped it on with how close he dared to stand by her. His arm brushed hers as he moved to open the office door for her. For a moment, she felt the tension ease and smooth over. The anticipation outside however, as agents peered curiously to see the damage, had not yet dispensed.

“... Elizabeth Brown then?” Jack asked tightly, that question taking nearly as much of his pride for him to utter as all the rest.

“Ridgewood, Queens.”

Jack nodded curtly, “I'll drive.”


End file.
